


The Service of the Demon

by Scarlet_la_Rose



Category: Kuroshitsuji | Black Butler
Genre: Action/Adventure, Adult Ciel Phantomhive, Aged Up, Angst, Aristocracy, Ars Goetia, Butler!Ciel, Dark Fantasy, Demon Sebastian Michaelis, Demonology, Detectives, Drama, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, First Time, Fix-It, Hate to Love, Hierarchical system, Hungry Sebastian, M/M, Moral Ambiguity, Political Alliances, Resolved Sexual Tension, Romance, Sexual Roles Change, United Kingdom, Victorian era, War time, Weston School Arc, bottom!Sebastian, elements of magic, fight for love, reverse au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-06
Updated: 2019-10-15
Packaged: 2019-10-23 03:12:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 7
Words: 47,695
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17675348
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Scarlet_la_Rose/pseuds/Scarlet_la_Rose
Summary: Having lost his family in a fire three years ago, Ciel was left without money. Being forced to look for a job and knowing that his life is under threat, he decides that working as a butler for a gloomy and secluded master is a perfect option. This master happens to be one Sebastian Michaelis, who positions himself as an aristocrat of the noblest of names. In reality, though, he’s a demon who is forced to serve his sentence on Earth since 1351.





	1. Butler Wanted

**Author's Note:**

  * A translation of [The Service of the Demon](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16744177) by [Scarlet_la_Rose](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Scarlet_la_Rose/pseuds/Scarlet_la_Rose). 



> Artist: [Katrin-Vates](https://katrin-vates.deviantart.com)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ciel, having lost his family in a fire three years ago, was left without money. Being forced to look for a job and knowing that his life is under threat, he decides that working as a butler for a gloomy and secluded master is a perfect option.

#### Over five hundred years ago, 1351.

“As the defendant failed to present any convincing arguments in his own defense, the Court finds him guilty of spreading the Black Death across Europe in accordance with Article Fourteen, paragraphs "A" and "B" of Part One of the Code of Baator. In addition, We find him guilty of the theft of two or more human souls. For these two accounts, Andras, the Great Marquis of Baator and the Subordinate of the Eighth Devil, is hereby sentenced to stay in the Human World for five hundred and forty-three years. The accused is also forbidden to consume souls during this period. The verdict of the Court is not subject to appeal.”

After these words, the loud sound of a gavel spread all over the hall of the Demonic Court. Andras looked coldly at Baalberith who was handing down such an unpleasant verdict. This was not the first time, so no one was surprised by this turn of events.

Contrary to all the myths and rumors about this gloomy dimension, Ninth Hell was not something completely immoral. There were rules and customs that everyone, without exception, were obliged to comply with. Of course, not everyone was pleased about this: demons were willful creatures, rebels from the birth. They didn’t want to put up even with the narrowest set of the limiting laws and they inevitably flouted them.

Like the majority of the Baatezu, if not all, Andras was a belligerent demon who hated the humans’ world with his very essence. Being a spirit of war, this hatred was the foundation of his nature. It was his sharp sword that gave birth to strife and battles, his bloodthirst that destroyed the future of millions of people. But now, the moment came when Andras had truly crossed the line, so the Supreme Nine chose a rather peculiar punishment for him. They themselves had no warm feelings for people and the Shinigami, and with respect to their own customs, they gave Andras a relatively short sentence. However, he was still disgruntled. Like a touchy child, he was angry at everything.

How humiliating. He couldn’t stand the Earth, and spending time with these humans was even worse. To stay with these disgusting creatures and to listen to their brainless blabbering for more than five centuries… This was truly a terrible punishment. It infuriated him. And to think that he wasn’t allowed to eat even one soul!

Andras found himself growling with rage at that revolting verdict. Spreading this disease was nothing out of ordinary! Apart from the Shinigami, who cared about those ordinary people anyway? And didn’t the demons obey their own laws? He was a demon of war, after all. He had done worse. Much worse. Yet Astaroth had to go and decide to tighten the rules even though in reality, they were virtually non-existent here. Clutching the edges of his long cloak in his fists, Andras trembled with anger.

“There was no need to be so greedy and to consume so many souls at once.” Alastor put Andras into shackles, a nasty grin adorning his face. “Your punishment is well deserved: it’s no use to be angry with the Supremes for their decision, Great Marquis.”

Andras gritted his teeth with anger. He felt on the edge: right now, everything was setting him off, including this damned court hall full of laws and rules. This grandiose building looked more like a Royal palace, too fancy for such meetings, and he couldn’t help but find all these grandeurs annoying. But at this precise minute, the most maddening thing of all was the quiet giggling of Mephistopheles. He was looking arrogantly at him, not even concealing his mockery, anticipating his imminent punishment. Andras knew why he was here, and the awareness of this fact pissed him off even more.

Mephistopheles, the master of lies and deceit who was instructed to keep an eye on Andras’ actions on Earth. Mephistopheles himself treated Earth much less condescendingly than Andras. He visited it quite often and sometimes stayed there for a long time on his own accord. The realization that the curious look of this creature would follow him almost everywhere made Andras unsettled. However, he would face this humiliating punishment with dignity, promising himself to take pleasure in tearing any demon who would cross his path to shreds.

Coldly glancing around the audience, brimming with anger, Andras listened to the words uttered to him, “From now on, your earthly name is Sebastian Michaelis. Until you serve your sentence, the road to Hell is closed to you.”

#### London, 1893.

London has been particularly rainy these days. Dark clouds covered the entire bluish surface, making it dull and lifeless. They were so thick and gloomy that they didn’t let in even the smallest of sunbeams, evoking sadness and a strange kind of melancholy. The wind was blowing violently into the backs of the unlucky passers-by, and the trees were swaying to the cold, whistling surges of air. The picture was fascinating in its grimness and had the power to make any person distracted, urging them to indulge in dreams or memories.

It was a fairly familiar state of today's Victorian England, so such mood often assaulted its inhabitants. Despite being so different, all people resembled each other. Incompatible in some things, contradictory — it was the nature of all human beings. What was the meaning of their existence? None of them knew, and perhaps only the Creator himself could answer this question. Or maybe even he didn’t know?

Life and death. Two concepts ancient like the world itself. These phenomena accompanied each person — each creature entered this world under the arm of a welcoming Life and left it with a gloomy Death, each in their own way. Someone resisted their departure stubbornly for a long time, someone gave up immediately, and others simply accepted the fact of their mortality and met the Death calmly.

‘How did my parents meet her?’ Ciel wondered. He often asked himself this question, especially when he was in a mood like this, watching the cool raindrops roll down the glass. It was misty with rain.

Thin fingers slid over the fragile porcelain gracefully and brought the teacup to his lips. Ciel took a small sip, then sighed heavily and put it back on the coffee table, burying his hand in his grayish hair. Frowning, he looked at the newspaper job ads. He still couldn’t find a worthy position, and this complicated his already deplorable situation significantly.

“Damn England…”

Despite the fact that the Victorian era was quite favorable for the economy due to the lack of wars, the unemployment had always been an inevitable part of it and it would continue to exist indefinitely, making life difficult for those who had to fight for their survival. Of course, some positions were always open, meaning that they were replenished daily. Sometimes it was impossible to take an incidents-free walk as someone would always jump into your way, desperately trying to entice you and earn a little. Prostitution had gained momentum a long time ago, and the worst thing was that not only women but also some men got absorbed in it, although the government did not approve of this kind of lewdness.

Imagining himself in the place of one of these fallen creatures, Ciel grimaced in disgust.

Earl Ciel Phantomhive. It was difficult to imagine that recently, this honorable name was revered by people from all possible social strata. Once, Ciel had everything. Parental warmth, wealth, fame, a beautiful bride and a great future. The Phantomhives were respected by the most elite circles — after all, they were the Watchdogs of the Royal family, their kin being tied to this title for generations. Ciel’s future had been predetermined from the very beginning but in the end, it was the fire that decided everything. Its flames had swallowed his wealth, his home and his family.

It happened three years ago, in the winter of 1890. Being a spoilt fifteen-year-old young man, Ciel had never thought that the fate of a person could change so drastically in just a few minutes.

That terrible night was especially restless.

“Young master, wake up!” Someone’s anxious cry tore him from his sleep. Slowly opening his eyes, Ciel looked blankly at the butler who bent over him.

“Tanaka, what's the matter?” he murmured in displeasure, and then sensed the pungent smell of burning. Ciel’s eyes widened and he repeated his question, more urgently this time.

“You must immediately get out of here or they will find you, too!” Tanaka threw the blanket off him and began to hastily dress him. Ciel squinted suspiciously, carefully observing his motions.

“Who are they?” he asked tensely, feeling that the situation was taking a very serious turn.

“There is no time to explain, sir,” Tanaka quickly fastened the buttons of his jacket and rushed to the secret lever, pushing against it to open a secret exit from Ciel’s bedroom. “You must escape from the manor, right now!

“But…” Ciel approached the exit and froze in indecision.

He was tormented by doubts. This tunnel was only for the most extreme situations, which meant that whatever was happening now, it was dangerous as never before. Now wasn’t the time for questions, but Ciel felt terrified for his parents. What happened to them? Had those strange intruders already reached them? Maybe he could help somehow?

On the other hand, his father always told him to save himself first. The circumstances were unknown, and in order to save the loved ones, a plan was required.

“What will happen to my parents?” Ciel demanded, but his butler just lowered his head bitterly.

“I don’t know, my lord. But you will not be able to help them,” he concluded as if reading Ciel’s thoughts.

Somewhere in the distance, there was a strange racket. It was followed by the sound of the breaking glass. Taking a deep breath, Ciel ran down the tunnel, moving further away from the mansion.

“Go to Angelina Dalles-Burnett! Only she is capable of helping you now!” Tanaka shouted after him. Then he closed the passage.

Finding his way outside, Ciel slid toward the stables, as quietly as a shadow. The feeling of anguish gripped him tightly but he couldn’t let emotions take over. The Phantomhives always overcame all difficulties with their heads held high.

Jumping on the black stallion, Ciel rushed in the direction of his aunt. With the corner of his eye, Ciel saw a suspicious glow. As he turned to look back at the mansion, horror slammed into him. Flames engulfed his entire estate, burning the servants and his parents alive in this devilish hell.

“No…” Ciel’s grip on the horse weakened and he almost fell down.

This was monstrous. This feeling at his gut, telling him that he had lost everything at once, that there was no way back. As if all colors faded before his eyes, leaving lifeless grayness and emptiness. The blood froze in his veins from the awareness of the horror that had just occurred, and Ciel felt like he was losing his mind. Clenching his fists to the crunch of the joints, he whispered, his words heavy with hatred, “I will attain my revenge… whatever the cost!”

Steadying his horse again, he rushed away.

Ciel got up from his armchair unsteadily and walked over to the mirror. His gaze slowly studied his own reflection, marveling at the external changes that had occurred within him in the last three years.

He was already eighteen years old. He had grown a bit, but his body was still very much like that of a teenager, even though he was tall enough. The dark grayish strands of his hair were noticeably longer and now reached his shoulders. A part of his hair covered one of his eyes out of habit, thereby emphasizing the other one. It had been joyfully blue once, but it had faded noticeably, reflecting all the sufferings he had gone through.

Ciel ran his hand over his reflection and sighed heavily. At least his movements still reflected that special grace that clearly showed his once significant status.

That terrible fire hadn’t been the end of his misfortunes. About a month ago, his aunt had passed away. Although this expression did not quite fit into this context — rather, she had been put to death. And the most interesting thing was that her death had also occurred under the strangest of circumstances.

Madame Red was found in her own office. Her throat was cut and it was clear that the killer had been in a rush. Madame Red didn’t accept patients during that shift, which was convenient for her murderer, but still, at such a time, the clinic was being guarded by the security vigilantly. So it was strange that the criminal managed to do everything secretly from others. Being engaged in one of the reports, Madame Red did not notice how the attacker got close.

Ciel absolutely couldn’t understand the motives of the murderer, but something told him that the fire in his estate and the death of his aunt were somehow related to each other. And considering that a five-pointed star was cut out on her neck, which had to have been done after she had been murdered, the case took an even more mysterious turn.

Ciel had gotten himself into a mess, a large one. He instinctively understood that his life was now at risk. Even in this house, which had belonged to Angelina just recently, he wasn’t safe. But if he was forced to live with such fears forever, the feeling of paranoia would drive him mad sooner or later. In addition, Ciel wasn’t accustomed to running from danger, though doing nothing in his defense was also thoughtless. And he couldn’t start an investigation into the death of his parents because of the problem that steadily deteriorated after the death of his aunt.

He needed a job.

Ciel himself was quite unpretentious in his demands, so the money that his late relative had left him was enough for him to get by this month. But as the time went on, he realized he needed more money. Urgently. At the same time, Ciel fervently wished for a job that wouldn’t require him to be in public often — in his case, it could be way too dangerous. Ciel was far from stupid and he knew that whoever had committed those murders, they would start hunting him soon. That was, if they weren’t doing that already.

Shivering, Ciel returned to his armchair and began to study the vacancies again, few as they were. He practically devoured the paper with his eyes, and when he despaired enough to want to close it, he came across the announcement that felt like a light of hope.

«Butler Wanted»  
The Michaelis manor is seeking a butler.  
Responsibilities: Unquestioning obedience to his master.  
Requirements: Woman/man of eighteen and older.  
Special wishes: Housekeeping skills.  
Schedule: Seven days a week.  
Working conditions: Work with accommodation.  
Salary: 7500£  


“What nonsense is that?” Ciel murmured, frowning as he studied the ‘Responsibilities’ column.

It was truly weird. In standard vacancies, something completely different was usually written. For example, if the owner of the house suddenly needed Ciel to master Latin, then he would proudly boast of this skill. But this announcement differed from others here, and the suspiciousness of it made Ciel unsettled.

Reading this nonsense further, Ciel reached the ‘Salary’ column and whistled in amazement. The amount paid was remarkably large, which was even more suspicious. It was followed by the address where he could contact the employer.

Ciel squinted slyly and touched his chin with his fingers. Another plan began to be bloom in his cunning head.

This was a perfect chance. If he got this job, he could ensure both security for himself and a very profitable position. Apparently, this estate was quite rich if its owner was so thoughtlessly offering such a large amount of money. Failing to take advantage of this opportunity would be a crime.

“In any case, this is the most reasonable offer I've seen so far,” Ciel muttered to himself and shrugged.

Maybe in the future, a lot of tests were waiting for him, but for now, he would focus on simply finishing his tea.


	2. Meeting Butler (Special Edition)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The profiles of the protagonists that aim to provide the readers with the clearest image of Sebastian and Ciel. All facts are based on the first several chapters.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You can read [this article](https://scarlet-la-rose.tumblr.com/post/182594372065/the-protagonists) in my blog @scarlet-la-rose on Tumblr.
> 
> [Body proportions](https://66.media.tumblr.com/a1b2e1416dd091c7cc9cb6a64a7d143a/tumblr_inline_pmheioL14s1wsm1jh_540.jpg) of characters.

####  Sebastian Michaelis 

* * *

Real name: Andras  
Race: Baatezu (demon)  
Age: More than 3000 years  
Sexuality: Bisexual  
Native land: Baator  
Status: A Great Marquis (temporarily resigned)  
Mission: To sow discord  
Position: One of Baal’s assistants; a legendary warrior.  
Currently: Serving 543-year sentence for spreading the Black Death on Earth. Starving. 

#### Physical Appearance

Body: Like in canon, Sebastian is fit and has a sporty physique, without the abundance of muscles. 6.1 feet, 185 lbs.

Dressing habits: Depends on his mood. The more conceited he feels, the catchier clothes he picks. However, overall, he prefers darker shades and a classical style. His favorite colors include black and red, sometimes maroon и gold.

Body language and voice volume: Sebastian’s voice and gestures are always clear and smooth, he’s not fond of needless movements. However, during his most furious moments, he’s harsh and unpredictable.

Peculiarities: Sebastian has a path of hair from the navel to his crotch, as well as on his legs, even though he shaves it off after chapter 20. He has a firm, somewhat stiff body, with prominent collarbones.

#### Personality and Social Skills

Main characteristics: Passionate, cruel, self-confident, persistent, spiteful, rebellious, painfully blunt; he is always eager to laugh at someone’s misfortune; has a penchant for tyranny and dictatorship; is a sadist and a masochist.

Temper: Stress-resistant choleric. He can lose his temper but he also has enough self-restraint to control himself in the majority of situations.

Attitude to others: Sebastian hates people, viewing them as brainless animals; he has clearly defined inner and outer circles yet he treats even the former with suspicion and mild prejudice.

Likes: Physical and moral violence, fierce battles, wars, fire, weapon, stylish clothes, the smell of blood, cats, sex, classical music, massage.

Dislikes: People, stupidity, lies, messiness, naivety, devotion; feeding cats since they die from his cooking; Mephistopheles.

#### Combat Skills

Weapon: Cold weapon, such as swords and daggers, but he also frequently uses his hands, claws, teeth, etc.

Physical strength: Mild. For a demon, he’s rather strong, but his strength is not considered particularly impressive.

Magical strength: Low. Sebastian’s pretty bad in everything related to spells. He knows only the simplest ones.

Speed: High.

Agility: High.

Endurance: Extremely high.

#### Additional Info

Hobbies: Bullying people.

Habits: Sebastian often adjusts his gloves and his clothes. He also touches his buttons from time to time as he’s extremely meticulous about what he looks like. At times he strokes his hips and pockets since he misses having his sword.

#### True Form

The most prominent characteristic is his prolonged beak, as well as his impressively big wings and horns. He lacks a nose, having two blood-filled cavities instead, and he has a wrinkled face. His hands are purely black, as if they’re woven from darkness, with sparse feathers and long claws. His hair is long and thick, reaching the floor. His human body has pigmented skin (of black, pale, and pink hues, especially in the groin area), as well as pubic plumage.

#### Prototype

The Great Marquis of 'The Goetia: The Lesser Key of Solomon the King'. 

  


Andras and his magical seal by Louis Breton, “Hell Dictionary” illustrator.

He is the Great Marquis who appears as an angel with the head of a raven of the black night color, riding a strong black wolf, with a sharp and gleaming sword in his hand. His aim is to sow discord. If the caster is not careful, he will kill them and their comrades. The mighty Marquis Andras rules over 30 Legions of Spirits.  
  


####  Ciel Phantomhive 

* * *

Real name: Sirius  
Race: Human  
Age: 18 years  
Sexuality: Ciel is still undecided but leans toward homosexuality.  
Homeland: England  
Status: An heir to a noble aristocratic family who is currently considered missing.  
Currently: Ciel is undergoing a severe crisis due to the loss of support of his relatives and fear for his life. He is forced to work as a butler of Earl Michaelis.

#### Physical Appearance

Body: Ciel is older than his canon version and therefore, his physique is also different. He is thin but not excessively so, his body is mostly athletic. He’s quite strong in spite of his slender build as he is able to pick up Sebastian and even carry him for a while, albeit with difficulty. 5.7 feet, 136 lbs.

Dressing habits: Modest yet tasteful. The tragedy made him a little paranoid and he doesn’t like to stand out much. However, with Sebastian’s appearance, his self-confidence increases and he begins to love bolder images. His favorite colors include black, different shades of blue, light blue, and silver.

Body language and voice volume: Similar to Sebastian, Ciel’s voice and demeanor are clear and smooth; he’s not fond of making any unnecessary gestures. He’s incredibly graceful and sophisticated and he likes to feel beautiful for himself.

Peculiarities: Smooth pale skin, taut but still mostly soft buttocks. He has rare and soft body hair. Puberty is not complete yet as Ciel is still growing.

#### Personality and Social Skills

Main characteristics: Proud, graceful, rebellious, dispassionate, moderately self-confident, thoughtful, determined, narcissistic; does not shy away from lying to others and often plays with people. Honor is not merely a meaningless word for him, but the world is cruel and Ciel prefers to follow its rules.

Temper: Ciel has a sanguine personality with a penchant for melancholic qualities and a touch of phlegmatism. He has excellent self-control but is capable of experiencing vivid emotions.

Attitude to others: Ciel treats people with justified suspicions yet he also looks down on them a little. Currently he’s moderately introverted and he prefers to avoid the society because of his reluctance to socialize.

Likes: Mystical stories, desserts (especially with chocolate and strawberries), good tea, gothic attributes, classical music, stylish things. He likes to look at the stars and drink occasionally; is a secret admirer of romance novels.

Dislikes: Stupidity, untidiness, flat humor, corsets, overly smug personalities; Sebastian when he’s being a jerk.

#### Additional Info

Habits: Ciel constantly puts his bangs across his right eye and he often bites his lips; he smokes despite knowing about his weak lungs when he’s feeling especially shitty.

Hobbies: He loves reading romance novels when no one sees it, preferably with a cup of tea.


	3. The Hired Butler

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The owner of a manor is a certain Sebastian Michaelis who positions himself as an aristocrat with one of the noblest names and whose true nature is a secret. Sebastian is peculiar, provocative, harsh in response to any misstep; he enjoys devising various punishments and surprises Ciel with embarrassing orders. He has spent too much time in this world, and Ciel agrees to work for him without suspecting that Sebastian’s main goal is to drive him crazy.

The cloudiness of these days had affected the weather in London quite significantly. This time, the nature chose not to cheat this already gloomy area and unleashed a series of heavy rains that had been going on for three days in a row now. No luck awaited people who fell victims to this force of nature completely unprotected. In the best case, they ended up looking like drown rats.

Ciel spent all this time at his home, hoping to wait out the storm in warmth and comfort. To his great regret, the heavy rain didn’t stop even on the fourth day, despite his hopes to wake up early in the morning and see a more or less acceptable situation. Alas, this did not happen. And to make it worse, the downpour didn’t look like it was close to subsiding any time soon, so one could only guess about its exact end-point. 

Ciel didn’t intend to concede his possible place in the service of a mysterious Earl to anyone. Therefore, disregarding all inconveniences, he had to look for that mansion today. This was not a laughing matter — if fate had given him a chance, he had to at least try grabbing it. Especially since there would certainly be many applicants responding to such a lucrative vacancy. Ciel was ready to bet that most of his potential rivals had no plans to go out at the moment, meaning that now was the best time.

Ciel prepared for the trip carefully. In this weather, it would be a suicide to go out without a strong umbrella, thick wind-proof coat and high boots. Having dressed properly, he had to solve another difficult task. It was crucial to find some means of transportation since he himself definitely didn’t know the direction he needed, and it would be dangerous in too many ways to appear in an unknown area while completely alone.

After countless failed attempts to find a carriage, Ciel was delighted when his struggles finally paid off. On the outskirts of the road, near the old and battered building, there was a small carriage. Apparently, the poor gray-haired cabman was desperately waiting for some passenger in the hope to earn at least something. Shaking from cold, he was humbly hoping that fate would show mercy, and fortunately for him, that was exactly what happened.

“To the Michaelis Manor,” Ciel said, paying for the trip and walking around to get into the carriage. The man stared at him in surprise and then turned his gaze to the amount of money that was now in his palm. Ciel had given him more than required — such an amount wasn’t of any importance to him. The cabman looked up again, with profound gratitude in his eyes, and without additional delays, he nodded and took up the reins.

“I'll drive you, sir. Thank you,” he gurgled, and steered the horse forward.

During the trip, Ciel reflected on his potential future. He was tormented by many questions, most of which remained without any answer, but regardless of this, he had to think about himself now. This possible occupation could solve many of his problems if he managed to get it. And could Ciel Phantomhive lose? In the name and honor of his family, he had to show himself at his best.

The anticipation of something new and unknown sunk into his soul, taking residence there. There was a strange feeling in his heart, as if he was in for an unusual and fascinating adventure. Ciel’s intuition had always been pretty accurate, but this time, the premonition he had was a hundred times more powerful. Just like before that day. But surprisingly, he wasn't worried and he wasn’t afraid. Not at all. He felt that he was moving in the right direction, meaning that he could only go further forward.

The carriage stopped suddenly and Ciel heard the rumble of heavy boots. Apparently, they had already arrived as the coachman hurried to open the door for him. Grabbing his umbrella, Ciel stepped outside, sensing how his insides quivered in excited anticipation of further developments.

“Thank you, sir,” the man said and bowed, holding his battered hat with his hand so that the cold raindrops wouldn’t slip through his collar. “Here we are.”

“Thank you,” Ciel nodded at him, opened his umbrella and waited until the cabman returned to the carriage. When he disappeared, Ciel began to look around. His eyes immediately stopped at an ominous building made of black tiles. Two three-story wings diverged from the four-story central part, where the main entrance was located. The decoration and exterior of this manor screamed about its luxury and wealth. In its beauty and magnificence, it could even compete with the old dwelling of the Phantomhives — it was surrounded by a well-kept park, although watching the scenery in such weather was a pointless task.

Chuckling, Ciel headed straight for the entrance.

Listening to the noise of rain outside the window, two demons sat in the chairs, talking. The light from the flame of the fireplace colored their silhouettes orange: the fire was crackling peacefully, throwing occasional shadows on their faces. Both were drinking Chateau Lafite serenely, continuing their conversation. Conversation that was rather depressing. 

“A butler? Sebastian, I cannot believe that your excuse of the servants is not enough for you,” Mephistopheles smiled ironically, stretching himself comfortably in a chair opposite to Andras’. “You have just one year left, why such difficulties?”

“That's the thing, Mephistopheles. Since I've been banished to this hole, I have to recoup myself for my lack of freedom properly…” Sebastian curled his lips in his favorite bloodthirsty smile and took a sip of the red wine. He regretfully noted that he still couldn’t feel the real taste of this drink. “Whomever responds to my proposal is in for a nightmare.”

“I have asked you a billion times not to call me that way in this dimension,” Mephistopheles’ eyes went freezing for a moment. Following the example of his interlocutor, he drank some wine, and his expression softened in pleasure. Unlike Sebastian, he could feel the taste normally. “Faelen Roberts. That’s the only way you should refer to me in.”

“I forgot. My apologies,” Sebastian brazenly propped his chin in his hand and sighed with boredom. Even after five hundred and forty-two years of being in the society of this baatezu, he still couldn't tolerate him. But of course, it wouldn’t do him good to advertise it too often because he didn’t have any other company. “It’s too quiet today… my servants seem to have stopped messing everything up.”

“Of course,” Mephistopheles chuckled. “With your strange punishments, in the end, anyone will become more experienced even in the most difficult crafts.”

“Now you understand why I want a butler for myself?” Sebastian raised his eyebrow inquisitively.

“Sure,” Mephistopheles sighed dramatically. “Who do you think this person will be?”

Someone knocked on the front door. The demons looked at each other in surprise, a slow grin spreading across their faces as they heard the inept maid Meilin hurrying to meet the visitor. It looked like they were going to find the answer to their question sooner rather than later.

“Well, if you excuse me, I will not interfere,” Mephistopheles grinned wider and then headed towards the nearest mirror, disappearing in it by half.

“I’m not holding you here,” Sebastian chuckled coldly.

Somewhere in the corridor, he heard the footsteps. Finney ran into the room, out of breath, clearly intending to warn Sebastian about the guest who had arrived.

“Sir, a young man is here. He says he wants to see you in person,” Finney spoke with excitement, watching the predatory smirk on Sebastian’s face.

“I’ll accept him.”

Going down the spiral staircase, Andras headed towards the cause of his anxiety. As the young man approached, the demon tensed more and more. He could already sense that smell. The smell of a new, delightful soul. So pure that Andras' pupils narrowed and his eyes lit up with fire. The soul’s essence was so exquisite that he immediately understood that he was going to devour it. The term of his sentence had almost come to an end, and so his smile became wider. 

The visitor himself turned out to be too… fragile, and he reminded Andras of someone. The boy with ashen hair seemed about fifteen or sixteen years old. His cloak was wet, though not as wet as could be expected in such weather. It looked like someone had driven him here. The boy himself stood still, his back straight, with the dignity of an aristocrat. His stare was equally confident.

Coming to his senses, Sebastian hurried to pacify the rush of triumph that whirled in him, a task that anyone but him would have found difficult. He put on the most innocent mask he was capable of, and his visitor remained calm and unfazed.

Andras couldn't believe the magnitude of his luck. The thing he dreamed of most was finding someone who could satisfy his insane hunger as soon as he served his sentence completely. And suddenly his lunch came to him willingly and was most likely going to stay with him for a long time. 

A sweet anticipation filled his gut. Wanting to confirm the accuracy of his expectations, Andras focused on his guest.

“You wanted to talk to me?” he looked at the visitor with a fake confusion in his eyes. The boy nodded.

“It’s regarding your announcement,” Ciel pulled out a newspaper clipping from under his coat as a confirmation of his words. “The position of a butler.”  
Andras squinted. When pulling a piece of newspaper from his inner pocket, the young man had unwittingly showed his family ring, which helped Andras recall where he had seen him before. Raising his eyebrows, he smiled imperceptibly at how unpredictable this world was.

A Phantomhive, then…

Remembering the boy’s words, Andras stretched his lips in a blissful smile, and his interlocutor looked at him in bewilderment.

“Oh…” Andras drawled. “Well, then, would you mind discussing it with me over a cup of tea?”

“Not at all,” Ciel agreed. Hot tea was a must for him right now since such an unfavorable weather could confine him to a bed for a long time. His health had always been weak, especially in his childhood.

“Meilin,” Andras called out. The maid flinched and rushed to him, her face slightly flushed. “Take our guest’s coat and hang it up to dry.”

“Yes, sir,” the girl nodded humbly and hurried to follow the instructions.

“Well,” Andras turned his gaze to his visitor. “Come with me.”

He led the Phantomhive into the living room, convincing himself of the plausibility of his assumptions once again by simply watching him. The boy walked confidently through his mansion. There was no confusion in his gaze unlike it happened with most of Andras’ guests. The more of his fleeting guesses were confirmed, the wider his smile became, invisible in the darkness of the corridor. 

He would be hospitable. He didn’t want to reveal his nature and his intentions to Ciel ahead of time. For now, he would create an illusion of gallantry, hiding what he truly was.

Approaching the right door, Andras snapped his fingers, preparing everything for their tea in an instant. He wouldn’t be able to entrust something like this to his servants. At the moment, his goal was to show himself and his surroundings from the best side.

“Make yourself at home,” Andras led his guest to the laid table and sat in the armchair next to it.

Ciel grunted and took one of the seats, noticing with clear astonishment that there was only one cup. Apparently, for him.

“You won’t be drinking anything?” Ciel looked at him carefully, with his deep blue eyes, and Andras smiled barely noticeably.

“I don't like tea,” he shrugged ironically and focused on a miniature teapot, pouring a dark brown liquid into the cup. “This is Indian black Darjeeling. I hope you’ll enjoy it.”

“Thank you,” Ciel took a small sip. Tart liquid burned his tongue pleasantly. However, he wanted to start a conversation, so he decided not to take his time. “What about my question?”

“Give me your name,” Andras looked slyly at the boy. “And perhaps your age.”

“Ciel. I'm eighteen,” Ciel shrugged. Andras’ smile had become even more predatory but he chose to veil it with an appearance of interest.

“You don’t look eighteen… But let's say you are. Your last name?” Andras looked expectantly at him.

Ciel flinched. Obviously, he was thinking whether to reply with the real name or come up with a lie. No. Andras wouldn’t give him that opportunity.

“You don’t have to answer,” he smirked. “I’ve already guessed.”

“How?” Ciel recoiled slightly and stared at him, and Andras sighed, wondering how such a simple thing could be misunderstood.

“The family ring on your right hand, and your manners… everything is quite obvious,” Andras didn’t take his piercing gaze off his visitor, watching how the boy started to look a little out of place. But of course, he refused to let it be actually shown. “Isn’t it, Earl Phantomhive?”

Such statement was supposed to disarm anyone — after all, he had just called him out on his reactance to share the truth. But did the Phantomhives ever lose their composure even in such situations? Andras expected that the boy would be confused and unsure of his further actions, and that would be immensely entertaining. It would be amusing to watch the embarrassment of an heir of such a noble family, but this time, his hopes were dashed.

Ciel calmly put the cup on the saucer and then looked at him. It was impossible to see even a slight hint of fear or confusion on his face. His impassibility was masterful, and this only served to amuse Andras even more. It looked like he was going to not only claim a tasty soul after serving his punishment but also have fun with a very obstinate boy. He would gladly put him through all possible hell torments during this year.

“You are right. I’m facing a rather difficult situation now, so I have to look for an occupation of this kind,” Ciel entwined his fingers and sighed. “As you understand, I possess a sufficient set of skills, so I think I can meet the requirements for this position. May I know your name?”

“Sebastian Michaelis,” Andras smiled, making a fleeting show of his fangs. “You are hired. I am waiting for you to arrive at five o’clock tomorrow morning.”

“Thank you for your attention and hospitality, I will try my best to serve you in a worthy manner,” Ciel got up from the table and bowed. “I guess I'll be on my way for now.”

“Of course,” Sebastian nodded sarcastically. “Meilin will see you out,” he pointed in the direction of the girl who was standing frozen in confusion next to the entrance.

Now the real fun could begin.

Ciel woke up early in the morning, at about three o'clock. The sun hadn’t risen yet and the room was still immersed in a pleasant gloom. Ciel had to carefully prepare himself for the upcoming trip, which threatened to transform into a rather unusual turn of events. 

Having put himself in order, he had breakfast and began to pack up.

He didn’t feel any traces of disappointment or longing. His manor had been burned a long time ago now, and this place was not at all something he would call a home. Rather, a temporary area of residence. 

Fully assembled, Ciel walked outside to look for transportation. Strangely enough, he didn’t have to spend a lot of time searching because near that very place where he had caught the carriage yesterday, the same man was waiting. Noticing the familiar silhouette from afar, he bowed to Ciel and happily opened the door of the carriage for him.

“Good to see you again, sir,” he greeted him. “Where to this time?”

“The Michaelis Manor.”

“Got it, sir.”

This time, they arrived to their destination much faster. The rainfall that had been going on for days had almost disappeared, leaving moist drops flowing down from the branches of the trees and roofs. The wind was still howling a little, though, bringing a slight coolness with it.

When the coachman stopped the horse, pulling the reins, and the clatter of hoofs died down, Ciel opened the door and stepped outside. He moved toward the residence confidently, and it met him with its gloomily cold beauty once again. Ciel didn’t look back at the coachman, but he heard how the carriage rushed away, the horse letting out a nervous sound, as if disturbed to find itself on this spot. As if it felt the sinister energy emanating from the mansion.

Ciel approached the porch and the door opened immediately, with an already familiar maid greeting him.

“Come on in, Mr. Ciel.”

She led him to his new room. Noticing the excessive fussiness, incompetence, and the simplicity of this servant, Ciel blinked, perplexed. Her level didn’t correspond to the sense of aristocracy that filled this place. Maybe the rest of the servants covered for her? As she was leading him along the corridor, she knocked down a vase, but a tall guy who crossed paths with them managed to catch it and return it to its place. Certain assumptions were bound to arise.

“This is your room. Mr. Sebastian will be waiting for you in his office, the second floor, the first door on the right. Now you should clean up yourself,” Meilin bowed and immediately left the room, leaving Ciel all alone.

He looked around. The room was very modest, nothing excessive here. Something that befitted a servant but at the same time, wasn’t really meager. A single bed, a wide mirror, a desk and a set of drawers were the main parts of the interior. The window opened the view on the garden, though, which was good. 

In the end, having figured out where and what was located, Ciel came to the conclusion that he was satisfied with everything. He picked up his new suit from the bed and went to the mirror to look at his reflection.

“Quite good.”

The shirt and the black jacket suited him surprisingly well, as if adjusting themselves to all the outlines of his not quite masculine proportions. The final touch was the butler's white gloves. Ciel put on his two gold rings on the top, refusing to be parted with them. After all, it’s not like there was any point in hiding them now.

There was a soft knock on the door of Andras’ office. He immediately ceased his contemplation of the landscape outside the window, which was his only way of entertainment sometimes. Raising his eyebrows, he said, “Come in.”

An elegant silhouette of Ciel immediately appeared in the opening. He entered the room and bowed, awaiting the further orders of his new master. Andras grinned, noticing that the uniform sat very well on the boy.

“I am waiting for your further instructions, my lord,” Ciel said, but there was no proper humility in his voice. Only a semblance of one.

‘We will have to work on this,’ Andras decided sadistically.

“To begin with, you should be introduced to your subordinates, whom you will now lead and… instruct,” Sebastian smiled mentally, but outwardly, his face remained as cool as ever. “Meilin, Bard, Finney!”

Two of the names were unfamiliar to Ciel. In less than a minute, the servants entered, and they all looked bizarre.

“Meet your new colleagues,” Andras looked at them ironically and they cringed, as if they had already committed some kind of offense. “You already know Meilin, she works as a maid and her eyesight isn’t very good, so you need to look after her carefully. And these two,” Andras pointed to a man and a young guy who couldn’t be much older than Ciel himself, “are Bard and Finney, they are a cook and a gardener. Is everything clear to you?”

“Yes, sir,” Ciel nodded.

“Good,” Andras grinned. “Bard, I’m waiting for my breakfast, and you, Ciel… make sure he does everything correctly.”

“B-but sir?” Bard stared at Sebastian in clear shock, which surprised Ciel a bit. What was strange about asking one of the servants to make him breakfast?

“Do as I say,” Sebastian replied coldly.

Fifteen minutes later, there was an explosion. Ciel flinched from surprise and rushed to the kitchen. He had left Bard only for five minutes, wanting to help Finney who couldn’t reach the top branches of the bushes. They had to be trimmed.

“Bard, what the hell have you done?!” Ciel looked dumbfounded at the mess unleashed by this unfortunate cook. He had no idea how this could have happened!

“Forgive me, Mr. Ciel, but… my master very rarely asks me to cook him a meal, so I… I wanted to quickly…” Bard looked down shyly.

“Clean up everything you’ve done here and I’ll prepare the breakfast myself,” Ciel quickly collected himself and was about to begin to rectify the failed assignment when…

“What happened here?” Sebastian entered the charred kitchen, eyeing it with an exaggeratedly puzzled expression on his face.

“Bard will clean everything up immediately and I will prepare a meal for you, my lord,” Ciel was about to pull out the necessary ingredients but Sebastian stopped him.

“Don’t,” his lips curled up in a predatory snarl. “Since I’ve given you the task to control Bard and you failed it… clean up everything here yourself.”

Ciel was speechless. Not only was he charged with the responsibility for the mistake of this useless servant, he was also forced to remove the mess himself. He, the last heir to the Phantomhive family, had to become a cleaner!

However, for now, he had to show restraint. After all, it was just the first day.

“Of course, sir,” Ciel replied calmly and set about completing his task, though his heart was still beating wildly in anger.

It was not difficult to guess the feelings that Ciel was experiencing. Hatred? No, this was probably too strong of a word. Discontent? No, that’s the opposite, too weak. Anger? Closer, but still not the same. 

Irritation. When you have a disgusting-smelling rag in your hands that you have to thoroughly moisten with water to scrub off all the dirt that an inept cook had left behind… Ciel’s lips pressed in a hard line so as not to let a quiet hiss slip out. Having coped with this dirty task, he hastened to return to the kitchen. He didn’t understand who he was angrier with, Bard or at the master who had made him clean all this.

“No way in hell.”

Only a noble birth and strict upbringing stopped Ciel from swearing aloud as he occasionally allowed himself in his thoughts. He was outraged by this whole situation. Not to mention that there was a maid working in this estate, and cleaning was her job. Throwing the rag to the floor, Ciel looked at his gloves in displeasure. They would have to be changed, and only then he could proceed with the preparation of that breakfast.

He didn’t notice how the shadow of one of the sculptures began to turn black and grow in size, until with a quiet laugh, it moved to the place of Bard’s mess.

Ciel returned from his modest room with a new pair of gloves, intending to finally start with the meal, his low heels clicking measuredly on the marble floor. Although Sebastian rejected the idea of breakfast, he was also a human and he needed to satisfy his hunger.

For a long time, Ciel’s culinary skills had been rather average, but Angelina’s butler was too clumsy to cook anything. Ciel had never really interacted with Grell, as he was called, especially when he suspiciously disappeared after Angelina’s death. In any case, Ciel was not accustomed to eating bad food, so he had to learn to serve himself. The first weeks and months were difficult, but over time, his skills began to improve.

Suddenly, his attention snapped to the messy maid. Puzzled, Ciel looked at the fruits of Meilin’s labors. She was rubbing the frame of the paintings with something black, suspiciously reminiscent of the shoe polish. Ciel’s eyebrows crawled up involuntarily.

“Uhm… Meilin, what are you doing?" he approached her and carefully considered the results of her work.

“Polishing the frame of this beautiful picture, of course!” Meilin answered happily and began to work twice as hard, which only aggravated the situation.

“But… you have shoe polish in your hands!” Ciel stared at her in amazement and the maid abruptly turned pale.

“It's all because of these glasses!” she looked at him desperately. “I’ve been asking master to let me wear the new pair, the one I purchased about two months ago, but… if I put them on, he somehow appears right next to me and orders me to take them off. Now he threatens to break them altogether…” Meilin sniffed and wilted visibly.

“Well… that's pretty weird.”

Ciel was a little confused at this yet another unusual feature of his master. He didn’t seem to want his servants to work properly — namely, not to unleash chaos and do their actual duties. But as a butler of the estate of Michaelis, Ciel had to be strict and reasonable toward all the mistakes of his wards.

“Ask Finney or Bard to find the right tools for you and immediately remove everything you’ve just done here,” Ciel firmly concluded and went to the ill-fated kitchen to fulfill his own duties.

“Yes, sir!” Meilin shouted after him, putting her palm to her forehead.

Sighing heavily and running two fingers across the eyelids, Ciel increased his pace. He had to hurry because he was already late, and punctuality and speed were some of the most important qualities of any butler… then again, Mr. Sebastian hadn’t given him a specific timeframe during which he had to finish everything. 

Ciel’s thoughts were interrupted as he turned around the corner and got to the kitchen, freezing in shock. Everything was clean! Everything was in a perfect order here, as if someone had removed all devastation with a magical wave of one’s hand! Ciel couldn’t believe his eyes. How had this happened? After all, it was impossible to remove such chaos in such a short time… or was he that late? Who could have done this? 

Stunned, Ciel traced the surface of the table with his hand. It was spotless. Perfect.

Maybe Bard?

In a normal situation, he would have suspected the maid, however given that she had been in his company just now and, to put it mildly, was extremely clumsy and inattentive, she couldn’t have accomplished such a feat. And there was no other definition for it.

Unexpectedly, Ciel was joined by Bard himself, who also looked stunned at the cleanness that in his opinion, Ciel had succeeded to achieve in such a short time. Well, it was just his delusions.

“Mr. Ciel, how did you handle all this?” Bard nervously took out a cigarette and lit it up, beginning to smoke both defiantly and nervously. Ciel was even more astonished.

“You didn’t do this?” he clarified. “Maybe Finney. By the way, stop smoking, especially indoors,” he added, putting a stop to his thoughts. It was impossible to understand what was going on here.

“No, it was definitely not…”

Bard's phrase was cut short. There was a knock on the door — clearly, someone decided to visit the manor and now had to be met. Ciel immediately headed towards the main entrance. Clenching the wide handle of the massive door and pulling it towards him, he faced a very unusual person. The man who stood on the threshold smiled amiably, but something that flashed in his smile… it was fake. His tiger-like eyes shone with mischief that seemed to be directed solely at him. 

Ciel quickly collected himself and wanted to inquire as for the purpose of the visit when he was interrupted by a disgruntled and somewhat irritated voice, “Faelen, what do you need this time?”

Sebastian himself descended the stairs, gazing haughtily at the visitor, not hiding his attitude towards him. Ciel lowered his head in a respectful bow and stepped back, letting the guest into the house and then closing the door. Faelen smirked and shook his head.

“I have to talk to you about something important,” he stated, adjusted the emerald shawl around his neck, and put his hand in the pocket of his black double-breasted jacket, removing a small envelope from there.

Sebastian's eyes immediately changed from indignant to bewildered. Without paying attention to Ciel standing near the threshold, he approached his guest. The boy remained in place, trying to be as inconspicuous as possible, but he was still watching everything. 

Ciel was interested in the newcomer. Based on what he’d seen and on the servants’ words, their master was secretive and unsociable.

Andras took the letter in his hands, examining it. As soon as he saw the red seal with a peculiar symbol, his face changed. However, he didn’t forget about the task that he had given to his butler this morning. Even in the presence of Mephistopheles, he wanted to humiliate the boy. Or rather, he wanted to do it _particularly_ in the presence of Mephistopheles. 

“Ciel, have you cleaned up everything?” Andras turned to face his servant, drawing Mephistopheles’ attention as he chuckled in his fist.

“Of course, sir.” Ciel put his hand to his chest and bowed, but he didn’t look away from Andras, staring boldly into his eyes. Andras chuckled coldly, angry that he had failed to have put his inexperienced servant in a humiliating situation and at the same time wondering how he could have possibly carried out his assignment. “Perhaps you are hungry? You didn’t have breakfast today,” the boy added hesitantly.

“No, no food is required,” Andras raised his right palm, which currently lacked a black glove, and Ciel’s attention snapped to his strange, black nails. “Bring some red wine to my office in exactly five minutes. Not earlier and not later.”

“Yes, my lord,” Ciel hurried to leave, checking the time on his small pocket watch.

Left alone, the two demons headed to the second floor. The atmosphere between them was quite tense, though it was not surprising. Andras realized that there were some crucial news waiting for him, the news from there. In the end, having reached the office, he sank into his favorite armchair. As always, Mephistopheles chose the opposite one, deciding to begin the conversation first, knowing that Andras wouldn’t volunteer.

“That's the same one, right?” he nodded toward the first floor, where a little servant supposedly was. “How are things?”

“He has been working for me only for one day but he has coped with the very first task suspiciously easily,” Andras frowned and then turned his gaze to his interlocutor, squinting thoughtfully. “Did you help him, by any chance?”

“I was simply passing by,” Mephistopheles shrugged, smiling mysteriously. But, having met Andras’s menacing glance, he smiled indulgently. “I solemnly swear that this prank will not happen again.”

“Demons don't lie. None but you and your kind…” Andras frowned with displeasure. “Now you understand why I can't stand all of your lot?”

“Naturally,” Mephistopheles shrugged carelessly, running his hand over his black wavy hair with purple tint. Suddenly, his face acquired a serious expression. “Now…” he didn’t have time to finish speaking because there was a knock on the door.

“Five minutes exactly. Well, of course…” Andras sighed and said loudly, “Come in!”

The door immediately opened and Ciel entered the room, wheeling a cart with glasses for wine and the bottle itself. Andras measured him with a predatory gaze, planning to arrange another trick. His foot slid under the edge of the carpet and he jerked it up abruptly, forcing the heavy fabric to curl in a small wave. It reached Ciel immediately and made him stumble, almost dropping the glasses to the floor. If it were not for the dexterity with which he kept the thin glass, it would have been broken. The situation was worthy of a ridicule but Ciel looked so cold that drawing attention to it would be simply out of place. And Andras didn’t like it.

“I apologize for my carelessness,” Ciel immediately stood up as if nothing had happened and put the glasses on the table. He began to pour wine into them and then grimaced as if from the acute pain.

One of the glasses seemed to have cracked, after all. Since it had a rather peculiar form, it was really hard to notice the flaw. The glass had pierced the butler's glove and its fabric was instantly soaked with blood. Both demons inhaled deeply. This smell couldn’t be confused with anything else, only this time, it was a little different. But neither Andras nor Mephistopheles showed it as Ciel smiled awkwardly and flexed his wounded index finger.

“Fortunately, I have a spare glass,” he immediately took it from the bottom shelf of the table and completed the task. Not bad for the first time. Then he turned to Andras. “May I leave, sir?”

“Head into the garden and help Finney cut the roses,” Andras nodded and smiled slightly.

“As you wish,” Ciel bowed.

When the door behind his butler closed, Andras laughed softly. He knew that the gardener wasn’t currently in the estate because he had sent him to the city for the new seeds. And as the weather worsened, he would linger there for a long time, unlike Ciel, of course. Clouds were gathering already, another rainstorm was about to begin. It was a pity that it wouldn’t be easy to get into the house after that. 

However, despite all the entertainment, there was one thing that didn’t give Andras peace. The smell. It differed from others.

“You felt it too, didn't you?” Andras flashed his red eyes at Mephistopheles. He stretched his lips in a smile.

“Everything is possible. But we should talk about something else now,” Mephistopheles nodded at the letter. “You should read it right now.”

These words aroused Andras’ curiosity. Taking the envelope in his hands, he ran his long black fingernail along it, using it instead of a knife. Breaking the seal, he extracted a letter from there.

“Really?” he stared at Mephistopheles and he nodded.

“The rules have changed, Sebastian,” Mephistopheles sighed sadly. “The Shinigami began to voice their complaints. The demons are forgetting themselves, consuming too many souls, like you did once…” he casually recalled, and Andras glared at him. “They break the balance and it was necessary to take measures. Now you can only enter the contracts,” Mephistopheles finished firmly.

“And who issued this decree?” Andras tried to control himself, but he was getting more and more infuriated. His hands, still wrapped around the letter, clenched into fists, and his claws dug into the paper, threatening to destroy it. “Did Astarot deem that the harsh punishments he had been subjecting us to weren’t enough?”

“Apparently not,” Mephistopheles took a few sips of wine. “There is nothing we can do now. And by the way…” he got up from the table. “I'm a little hungry. I'll go look for a new contractor.”

Andras didn’t reply to him. He was at a loss and at the same time, he was extremely angry.

He hated people. He despised them with all his black essence, although over the past centuries, he had learned to tolerate them. He absorbed the souls only when a person was in a critical condition, and the Shinigami could simply not keep track of him then. Although they worked smoothly, there were always loopholes that Andras used successfully. But now… Now they were simply not allowed to do this because apparently, not only Andras was successful in performing these tricks.

Many of his fellow demons didn’t welcome the contracts — it was disgusting to serve such creatures as humans, especially to help them obtain such trivial and lowly things as money, power, voluptuousness… revolting. Andras didn’t know how many more epithets he could recall in order to at least somehow describe his emotions, but he understood perfectly well that none of them would convey all his discontent and fury. He was hellishly hungry! At the moment, all he wanted was one soul: the one that was now working for him and was somewhere in the garden, so very close.

When his term here ended, Andras had been planning to put the boy in some life-threatening situation or affect his health, to push his body to the stage of slow death and to extract his soul. Now, he could say goodbye to this plan. The rules no longer allowed him to do this, and if he broke them, he wouldn’t be able to survive for another five hundred years without recharge. It was too difficult. 

How unpleasant it was to realize that eventually, he would be forced to serve this boy if he planned to consume him. And there was no question of agreeing to let this soul go. He would get it. Whatever the price. Now… why not have some fun when he still had time?

“Oh…” Andras drawled. “Here is that rain.”

When Ciel left the estate and came to the garden, he immediately began to look for Finney who he had been sent to help. In ten minutes, he had crossed the entire territory of the park but didn’t find anyone. It was useless to call the gardener by name, he clearly couldn’t hear him, so Ciel had nothing left but to manage everything on his own.

Immersed in his work, he failed to watch the weather, which continued to deteriorate with every minute. Again. The season of the first November rains was not a joke, and it seemed that today, he was out of luck. The first drops began to fall from the sky so rapidly that Ciel only startled in surprise, and then he finally understood what was happening.

“Damn my luck,” Ciel grumbled. Leaving his work, he rushed into the house.

When he reached the back door, he mentally cursed the damned weather. And the door was closed! What a fool he’d been… Out of inexperience, he hadn’t taken the keys with him. It was worth checking the central entrance, though.

Shuddering from the cold, Ciel rushed to the main door, but it was also locked. Well, now he had officially lost his chance to get into the building and change his clothes quietly. An awkward situation… and the day had started so well. If he risked knocking, it would be too loud, and if his master saw him in such state… this was what Ciel wanted the least. But there was no way out of this.

Meilin was rushing to the front door at full speed. The butler was not close by, so she had to complete this task herself. Speaking of the butler… He was the one behind the door. Drenched to the bones and terribly dissatisfied. 

Ciel had hated the dampness.

“Mr. Ciel, how did this happen to you?” Meilin blinked in surprise, moving aside and letting him into the house. He sighed and brushed away a wet lock of hair from his forehead, revealing both of his eyes.

“I don’t have time for this, Meilin.” Ciel wanted to quickly go to his room to change his clothes. The one good thing was that he had completed the task, even if he’d done it without Finney. That's when he remembered: “By the way, do you know where Finney is?”

“Mr. Sebastian sent him to the city for some seeds about an hour ago. Did you not know?” Meilin looked blankly at Ciel.

“I see,” he said, confused, realizing that something was definitely not right here. After all, Sebastian had told him to go to the garden deliberately. It was unlikely that he suffered from sclerosis and failed to remember where he’d sent his servants.

Ciel shook himself out of his thoughts and started to move to his room, but the next moment, he was stopped by the one person he didn’t want to see at all. The servant must not appear before his master in such a state. But Devil, this man had an ability to appear anywhere in the most inappropriate moments!

“Ciel, what happened to you?” Andras pressed a hand against his chin, pretending to be puzzled and staring at his servant curiously. Ciel bit his lip in disgust.

“I apologize for appearing in such an inappropriate shape,” Ciel pressed his hand to his chest. “Let me correct this mistake.”

“And what was the reason that caused it, pray tell?” Andras arched his right eyebrow, pretending to be waiting for a response. He knew that his butler was ashamed of the real reason. He hadn’t just gotten wet, after all.

“I left the keys in my room. I apologize,” Ciel looked embarrassed, as a child who was being blamed for something he was already ashamed of. But he’d made a mistake, and this was unacceptable.

“Well, this will serve you as a lesson for the future. But today, as a butler, you have been extremely bad,” Andras uttered the last sentence with great pleasure, knowing that the boy would hate it. And he was right — Ciel frowned, realizing that he was being mocked. Unfortunately for him, this wasn’t the end of his torment. “Put yourself in order and prepare a bath for me.”

“Yes, sir…” Ciel nodded and moved to his room.

“Why not,” Andras drawled, looking at the retreating figure, slowly sliding his tongue over his lips. The maid, who was still nearby, flushed in embarrassment at this sight.

Changing into a dry uniform, Ciel filled the bathtub with the water. The only difference in his outlook now was the lack of a black jacket — it would be superfluous in these conditions. His hair was getting wet from the steam coming from the bath, and the long bangs were clinging to his face unpleasantly. He had to tuck them behind his ear over and over again, but some strands still stubbornly fell on his forehead.

It looked rather charming, Andras thought.

“Everything is ready, isn’t it?” he appeared so silently that Ciel flinched against his will. Instantly lowering his eyes, he blushed slightly, probably at the fact that Sebastian was now standing in front of him in a towel alone.

“Yes, my lord,” the boy hurried to turn away and, bowing, wanted to leave the room. Andras had managed to quickly submerge himself into the hot water, closing his eyes with pleasure.

“Did I let you go?” he inquired, opening one eye and looking at Ciel. The boy froze in surprise and turned to face him again.

“Do you still need me, Master?” he asked in frank bewilderment, to Andras’ deepest amusement.

“I want you to wash my head.” Inwardly, he laughed, knowing that the boy would remember this shame for a very long time.

Ciel said nothing, only sighed heavily and approached. These were the conditions of their work agreement, after all. 

He filled the jug with some water and tilted Andras’ head back a bit so that the foam wouldn’t get onto his face. Moistening his hair, he then poured a little shampoo onto his hand and began to rub it into the black strands thoroughly. 

Reveling in the pleasure of a massage, Andras relaxed and threw his head back onto the side of the bathtub. He loved this procedure, and knowing how uncomfortable and awkward it made the boy feel was just the icing on the cake. 

‘Is he unable to wash himself?’ Ciel thought, blushing desperately.

Obviously, he felt ill at ease, and the situation was very… strange. He, an eighteen-year-old young man, was working as a butler and was now bathing his adult master. Moreover, said master sadistically enjoyed it, as if knowing how embarrassing it was.

“Enough, Ciel. Lower,” Sebastian interrupted his efforts of the boy, turning his head in his direction.

“What do you mean, ‘lower?” Ciel asked, confused. He had no idea what his highly sophisticated lord was trying to do.

“Take a sponge and continue lower,” Sebastian shrugged and pointed at the object resting on the side of the bathtub.

“Yes, my lord…” Ciel gritted out and hurried to execute the order.

He took the very same sponge and dipped it into the water, then applied some gel to it. Foamed it and hesitantly held it over his master’s strong shoulders. He had never experienced a more intense form of humiliation in his life. However, so far, everything had been more or less tolerable. At least he wasn’t bathing a young lady because he would have certainly been unable to endure it. He was lucky that Sebastian was silent, and if it stayed that way, there was unlikely to be something that would drive him into even redder paint… 

As if sensing Ciel’s fears, Sebastian smirked.

“Still lower,” he said when Ciel’s hands stopped to wash his chest.

"Still?” Ciel blurted, completely embarrassed. When the meaning of these words reached him completely, the scarlet blush immediately hit his cheeks.

Suddenly, there was a loud crash that caused the tall Palladian window to crumble as if it had been taken down with one blow of a ram. Ciel immediately looked up and Andras narrowed his eyes suspiciously.

Who dared to break into his estate in such a brazen manner? Even Mephistopheles didn’t allow himself something like that!

The window shattered into small fragments. The broken glass crumbled onto the floor and someone immediately jumped in. The guest landed graciously and took a few steps forward, ignoring the crunching of the glass under his feet. 

His eyes squinted dangerously. He’d found the one he was looking for.


	4. The Shrew Butler

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sebastian Michaelis is peculiar, shocking, and strict in response to any misstep. He is generous with malicious punishments and surprises Ciel with most embarrassing orders. After getting a job in Sebastian’s manor, Ciel has put himself at even greater risk since by a strange coincidence, his enemies have instantly learned of his location. The suspicions that revolve around Sebastian’s oddities keep accumulating to a disturbing degree.

Ciel didn’t even have time to recover when the visitor that had appeared so suddenly raised his red chainsaw and bared his sharp teeth. Sebastian sighed, watching him. 

Not this again. It was surprising that their visitor hadn’t noticed him from the very beginning. Probably Sebastian’s non-standard position had played its role here — after all, he didn’t take baths often. It was clear that Sutcliff had come here for a reason, though, and following the bloodthirsty stare of his green eyes, Sebastian furrowed his eyebrows threateningly. The manifestation of this kind of interest didn’t bode well.

“Ciel, bring some wine for me and our guest. Don't make us wait,” he said calmly, nodding toward the exit. The boy had to be sent away immediately. He couldn’t be allowed to see this.

To Andras’ greatest displeasure and to Ciel’s luck, Grell immediately focused on his bathing self. Needless to say, the view had almost caused the deranged reaper to faint from the delighted pleasure. The only positive thing was that it distracted him from Ciel, who had clearly ceased understanding what was happening around him.

A man had burst into the house. Moreover, he had done it through the window, even though the room was located on the second floor. Then this man turned on his red chainsaw, and the owner of the manor still didn’t blink an eye. 

‘Curioser and curioser,’ Ciel thought, recalling Alice’s reflections from the book published about two decades ago. It was the most appropriate expression for whatever was happening now.

“Of course,” he said perplexedly, not daring to disobey. Then he hesitated.

He was disturbed by both weird behavior as well as odd appearance of Sutcliffe, who was now staring at Sebastian. Sebastian snarled, although it looked comical, considering that he was sitting in a bath completely naked.

Ciel had long since noticed the strangeness in Sebastian’s behavior. Mentally, he called him exactly like this, by his first name, refusing to put up with the formal way of addressing him. Sebastian behaved very strangely indeed, and the meaning and logic of his actions were mysterious and incomprehensible. The pseudo-servants of the estate were a great example of this — they should have been sent packing a long time ago, quick as a cannonball. But no, despite all their blunders, they were still employed. Moreover, all their obvious attempts to make some efforts were rejected by Sebastian: it was enough to remember those new glasses Meilin had bought.

And Sebastian didn’t eat anything. Ever. Ciel hadn’t seen him consuming any kind of food even once. In fact, Sebastian didn’t touch anything except wine, though he didn’t come across as completely exhausted. And yet, when Ciel looked closely, there was indeed something strange about him, as if Sebastian was craving something. Watching him, Ciel felt that this was not the end of all surprises he had in store. 

Cutting off the flow of his own thoughts, he finally left the room, heading for the wine cellar.

Sebastian watched Ciel leave before focusing on Grell, who had dared to invade his estate so rudely. Surprisingly, he had already disappeared from his former place, but Sebastian clearly felt his presence… which could only mean one thing. The following words were a confirmation of his suspicions. 

“You sent him away so he wouldn't disturb us, right?” Grell put his hands on Andras’ shoulders, starting to massage them. “I didn’t expect to see you here, especially in this way...”

“Take your hands off me,” Sebastian said coldly, forcing the reaper to step back. The latter also flinched — probably from the burning rage in Sebastian's voice, and unwittingly took several more steps back.

The second he did that, Sebastian was enveloped in the clubs of vapor. He evaporated the water around himself, gradually putting on his usual attire, not allowing Grell to see him naked.

“You came here for a reason, I believe. What is it?” Having finished taking the proper form that befitted an Earl, Sebastian stepped out of the bathtub and approached Grell.

“I would tell you but I’m afraid I’ve already lagged behind my schedule. I do have a task, you know,” Grell drawled the last words with mock annoyance before moving to the exit. Then he turned around. “I would be very grateful if you didn’t disturb me. Show some restraint — I doubt that some boy might be actually important to you, so...”

Grell turned on his heels and was already intent on heading toward his goal when Andras blocked his path. He would never let him through in the direction of the cellar, where Ciel was picking a bottle of wine right now. And since Ciel had no need to linger there, Sebastian had to act quickly. This creature must be immediately removed from his house, but before, he had to confess why the hell he would need an ordinary person. Sebastian very much doubted that Ciel was on the list of the potential dead men, and this meant only one thing: Grell had personal plans for him.

“Hey, let go of me,” Sutcliffe glanced at Sebastian with displeasure. “I promise I’ll be done quickly. This way, I’ll become free much earlier and will be entirely at your disposal,” his eyelashes fluttered playfully, and Sebastian let out a heavy sigh, without losing his vigilance.

“Why do you need him?” he asked, squinting. “This is not included in the standard work of the reapers, which means that there is another reason.”

“I can't tell you, Sebastian, no matter how much I want to,” Grell pursed his lips in a hurt expression. Gradually, though, his appearance began to turn threatening. “And I can’t afford myself to linger when working with such trifle, it will spoil my reputation.” 

Sharply spinning around, Grell activated his chainsaw and immediately cut the air with it, aiming for Sebastian, though he dodged him with ease. The weapon went in an arc, colliding with a sculpture standing next to it and severing a crumb of white marble from it. Death Scythe was a special attribute of the reapers that they guarded like the apple of their eye. There was nothing this weapon couldn’t cut, though of course it didn’t cover another Death Scythe. And although Sebastian was not overly worried about the interior of his home, he couldn’t tolerate such display of arrogance. This was a blow to his pride and he had to fix it immediately.

The inhuman grace, speed, and agile movements of Andras had always been superior. His occupation as a war demon required these qualities. Catching a moment when Grell got a little distracted, he moved right under his arm that was holding the weapon, intending to intercept it, but Sutcliffe turned out to be more agile than he’d expected and at the same second, he threw the saw into his other hand. Then he swung again, this time pushing Andras against the wall and forcing him to defend himself, holding the saw with both hands.

“I don’t understand why you are wasting our time by defending the boy,” Grell said, displeased, bringing his face closer to Sebastian’s. Sebastian didn’t blink, continuing to calmly resist the onslaught of the Death Scythe, even though it wasn’t easy. “That little brat doesn’t deserve such attention! I'm a bit hurt. You preferred him to me!”

Andras wearily rolled his eyes, listening to oh-so-typical but boring Grell-things. He had known him for some ten years, but even in such pathetically short period, he had already grown tired of his chattering. It was time to end this.

“You keep talking about these abominable things year after year,” Sebastian grimaced, then grinned slyly. “And as always, you are incapable of calculating all possible actions of your opponent.”

The Death Scythe flew up in the air — Andras had knocked it out of Grell’s hands, getting rid of the source of attack. He immediately caught the weapon and smirked smugly. Predictably, Grell always lost too fast. Perhaps if he wasn’t plagued by an indiscreet weakness he had for Andras, he would have been an excellent cure from the eternal boredom. Alas, thank you, but no. Sebastian now had another toy that he didn’t intend to share with anyone.

There were the sounds of footsteps from the stairs. When he came to his senses, Andras realized that he was already inadmissibly late. To get rid of the blood-hungry creature and remove it from his house as soon as possible, Andras threw the saw out of the window, knowing how Sutcliffe treasured it. The eyes of the latter widened in horror. Clutching his head, he immediately rushed over to where he had come from to regain his precious weapon.

Sebastian rubbed his face tiredly, listening. Ciel was very close and he would undoubtedly be interested in seeing all this debacle. Although frankly, Sebastian didn’t care. 

And here he was.

“Sir, I brought you...” Ciel fell silent upon seeing a monstrous mess and Sebastian, dressed in his attire already, standing in the middle of the room, no strange guest in the vicinity. “Wine,” he uttered this last word much more quietly. Then he regained control over himself and frowned. “Where is ...”

“Mr. Grell?” Sebastian replied quite calmly, and Ciel's heart jerked at the sound of a familiar name. Andras continued, “He had to leave us prematurely.”

“What happened here?” Ciel couldn’t hide his astonishment — it was all too strange. “And why are you...”

“You don’t need to know this,” Sebastian snapped at him haughtily before taking the glass in his hands, swallowing the ever-accompanying red wine. In this world, he couldn’t afford anything else.

The taste of the drink had begun to feel better, but it didn’t please Andras. This could only mean that he was unwittingly yet steadily taking roots in this dimension. And this, damn it to hell, spoiled his mood. This minor nuance occurred so untimely, precisely at the end of his ordeal. He didn’t want to become attached to the Earth, knowing that it would only play against him. Human beings still failed to evoke any warm feelings in him, although he had to admit that they were quite interesting ... Especially the boy who was standing right in front of him. However, he couldn’t let himself think about it now.

“Clean everything here,” Sebastian gestured around the room, showing the huge amount of work to the boy. 

Was he mocking him?

Yes, that was exactly the case. His master was about to leave, not paying attention to Ciel’s frozen, bewildered state. Finally, Ciel shook off his stupor and proudly raised his chin.

“This is not a part of my duties,” he said, calmly staring at Sebastian who stopped and slowly turned in his direction.

“What did you just say?” Sebastian’s pupils narrowed threateningly and Ciel flinched but stood his ground.

“There’s a maid in our house, and cleaning is her job,” he deliberately didn’t look away from Sebastian. Who did this pompous Earl take him for? He wasn’t some kind of footman or a maid! He was a butler, he had the right to control the servants who were under his command.

“Fine, then,” Sebastian’s voice turned icy, and it was very difficult for Ciel to refrain from trembling.

Sebastian abruptly loosened his grip and the glass he’d been holding fell and hit the floor, breaking into many small pieces. The remains of wine splashed in all directions in small drops.

“Then everything must be cleaned no later than in an hour. The remaining servants will gladly help you with this”, Sebastian added, grinning viciously. He knew perfectly well that it would be several times more difficult to work with those three disasters, however... if Ciel condemned himself to such, he didn’t mind. He had chosen to show his obstinacy and now he had to pay the price. “Meilin, Bard, Finney!”

The clumsy employees appeared within a minute, knowing that their master didn’t like to wait at all. Upon entering the room, they were immediately surprised. Well, of course. The bathroom was in such terrible condition that it was scary to think about what could have happened here. Marble fragments of sculpture were scattered underfoot, some of them had turned into dust, as if they were carefully trampled down. Once striking in its cleanliness, a huge, gorgeous window was now smashed to smithereens. The white enamel of the bath had cracks and chips, as if it had been gutted with an ax, and one of its four clawed paws was wavering suspiciously.

“Sir...” Meilin stared, dumbfounded, at the terrible mess, clearly failing to understand how all this could have occurred. The rest of the two inevitable disaster-makers shared her feelings completely. “What's happened?”

“Just a little mess,” Sebastian shrugged innocently, then turned his gaze back to Ciel. “They're at your disposal. You have fifty-eight minutes left.”

“Yes, my lord,” Ciel bowed, staring at the floor and biting his lip. An unpleasant feeling surged through him. It seemed like this man was finally starting to annoy him.

Sebastian wasn’t going to leave the servants, but he still chose to remain inconspicuous. This time, he really wanted to see whether his butler would show himself as a leader. Could he cope with these abhorrently clumsy creatures? Sebastian had never deliberately forced them to do their work properly, and this would not play into Ciel’s hands. How would he get them to work cohesively, and would he manage to do that at all? This time, he would carefully ensure so that no outsiders intervened, like it had happened the last time with Mephistopheles. Right now, that demon was probably having fun with another short-lived contractor. This was good since Andras could rarely enjoy the moments when he wasn’t under his constant supervision.

Contractor. Sebastian acutely wanted to curse what he was now doomed to do. He would be forced to serve this boy. Why not try to lure his soul to the dark side, then? That would make his task much easier. After all, such a wonderful delicacy still lacked some sharpness... 

With an insidious smile, Sebastian caught a moment when no one was looking at him and merged with the shadow of a small chest of drawers that hadn’t fallen the victim of their small battle with Sutcliffe. The latter would have to be watched — Sebastian didn’t want this annoying reaper to suddenly break his peace again. He’d have to leave for a while, and then come back to admire the upcoming hilarious performance.

Quickly moving toward the broken window, he quietly slipped out of the estate. Pushed off the edge of the window, crossed three meters, and jumped to the next one. This world did have some charms, and it was regrettable that Andras didn’t know how to recognize them, blindly seeing the dimension he hated and refusing to consider anything else. And the darkened sky looked so beautiful… Twilights were delightful in all senses, especially now that all clouds had left the sky. Maybe it wouldn’t rain tomorrow.

It was unfortunate that under the influence of his punishment, he was unable to fully exploit his power. Sebastian hadn’t flown for so long, even though he’d been yearning for this incredible sense of freedom that took possession of every cell of his body... When he soared in the air, he could forget about all bloodthirstiness and hunger that accompanied him day after day. But to his desperate regret, now it was impermissible. The only gratifying thing was that he had only a year of this torment left.

Sebastian jumped onto the roof of the building and fell on its very edge, glancing over his lands. In comparison to his possessions in Baator, they were incredibly scarce. However, it wasn’t worth it to indulge in nostalgia.

Andras exhaled and a small black feather materialized in his hand. He raised his wrist, letting go of the feather and observing how it had turned into a gloomy raven. The bird cawed loudly, flapping its wings, and landed on Sebastian's shoulder. He loved these creatures no less than he loved cats. They were just as amazing.

“Find Grell Sutcliff and watch him,” Sebastian said quietly to his pet. “If he tries to come here again or to get close to that boy, let me know.”

The raven cawed loudly and flew off Andras' shoulder, rushing forward and hiding in the embrace of the coming night. The rustle of his wings dissolved in the gusts of the wind, leaving the demon in complete solitude.

Turning away from the contemplation of the receding bird, Sebastian hurried back to the servants to enjoy the amusing view. And he wasn’t wrong, everything looked funny indeed, especially since his poor butler was already covered with some strange mixture. Meilin had apparently spilled something over him, and now she was frantically waving her hands, trying to find an excuse.

“Mr. Ciel! I beg your pardon, I’ll wipe it all away right this second!” she exclaimed with confusion and horror in her eyes, watching the shampoo spreading across the butler's jacket.

“Do it faster,” Ciel said through gritted teeth, trying to control himself. However, this turned out to be difficult, given that Bard with Finney failed to do something productive as well, and the time they had left was rapidly diminishing. Ciel didn’t want to fail another task simply because of his own pride.

“Of course!” the girl grabbed the rag. The wet one. She began to try wiping the shampoo off his jacket, and because of its contact with water, the soapy liquid foamed, leaving Ciel covered with it as well, as if he was taking a shower. Meilin began to sweat once she realized what she had done. “I... Just a moment!”

“Enough,” Ciel cut her off. “I can do it myself, just remove the wine from the floor — I won’t ask for anything more.”

“Right away,” the girl mumbled guiltily, hurrying to proceed with his instructions.

Soaped and already feeling tired from the ridiculous behavior of the servants, Ciel wanted to get back to work. He would have if Meilin hadn’t spilled this same shampoo on him within the first minute. Taking a garbage bag in his hands, he opened it and put it on the floor. Then he took a scoop with a whisk and began to sweep the broken fragments there.

Because of his self-esteem, he couldn’t afford to do the work badly. His pride as a nobleman meant a lot to him. He was really trying to be a worthy servant — this was his desire to be the best at everything, like before, speaking. It didn’t matter whether he was a butler Ciel, whom he was now, or the Earl Phantomhive, who had already lost his former power and wealth — he still had to succeed. Without a doubt, if he had a more... accommodating and not such vile master, he would be a wonderful butler. But alas, when dealing with Sebastian himself, it was almost impossible to become someone worthy of his respect.

However, Ciel wanted to start an investigation into the case of his family, and this meant that he had to earn the trust and at least some positive attitude from Sebastian. No matter how depressing it was, it seemed to Ciel that Sebastian didn’t intend to let him leave the estate even for a short while. But no one would keep him, Earl Phantomhive, within the four walls without his consent.

Collecting the fragments in a scoop, Ciel threw them into a garbage bag next to him. He wanted to continue but Bard appeared right behind his back.

“Can I pick it up? It already seems full, sort of...” he scratched his head and filched from the sudden noise.

Ciel and Bard simultaneously turned toward its source. It turned out to be Finney, who was taking away the base of the broken sculpture. He’d managed to crash it against the door frame, and Ciel and Bard shook their heads bitterly.

“Carry it off,” Ciel commanded, returning to cleaning. “Just be careful, don’t touch or break anything along the way.”

“Right away,” Finnie sighed and picked up the sack from the floor. Ciel turned away with relief and looked at the work done. Not so bad — at least they had succeeded in getting rid from the most noticeable pieces. Bard, meanwhile, started to collect the rest of the garbage. 

“Wait a minute,” he mumbled.

And that’s when something that Ciel hadn’t seen coming at all happened. When they were practically done with everything, Bard carelessly picked up the garbage bags and pushed Ciel with them accidentally. The push was strong enough to send the frail boy into the ill-fated bathtub. He found himself in a ridiculous situation, with his legs sticking up above his head. Bard himself didn’t seem to notice it. He hurried away from the scene as soon as possible, brazenly leaving Ciel alone with the trouble he had caused.

The swaying leg of the bathtub broke under Ciel’s weight and it bent down, forcing Ciel to grasp the edges with his hands. Only if he was forced to swear by Queen Victoria, Ciel would admit that the boldest and dirtiest expressions whirled in his head at that moment. He was able to resist uttering them aloud by sheer force of will .

“Not this,” he groaned, doomed, getting out and looking at the collapsed bath with horror.

“And how did that happen?”

Ciel instinctively turned to the sound of the voice. In the doorway, there stood none other than his master, Sebastian Michaelis. He looked very dissatisfied, although in his eyes, Ciel could easily read an obvious mockery and... triumph? This was embarrassing. He had a feeling that Sebastian had been waiting for something like this.

“This bath has already suffered significant damage, so it’s not surprising that it collapsed after...” Ciel faltered, awkwardly looking away. Noticing such a look on his face, Andras stretched his lips in a gloating smile. Yes, he was gleeful — he was the one to achieve this disaster, but it wasn’t enough.

“After what?” he asked ingratiatingly, walking up to the boy and lifting his chin up with his fingers.

“After I broke it,” Ciel finished gloomily, refusing to look up and trying to break free from the tangible hold. He was bothered by this whole atmosphere. It was unpleasant to have someone intrude into his personal space, especially so brazenly and possessively, not letting him free himself.

“Indeed?” Andras narrowed his eyes insidiously, running his tongue over his upper lip and continuing to hold Ciel. For a moment, he kept burning him with his eyes, thinking about something, and then it dawned on him. He abruptly freed Ciel and grabbed his hand.

“Let's go. Unruly servants should be punished.”

“Where are you taking me?” indignant, Ciel stared at Sebastian’s hand that was still holding his wrist tightly, trying to break free.

“You will see soon ,” came the sly response as Sebastian continued leading the boy through a spacious corridor.

Ciel was tense. He kept staring at Sebastian’s head incredulously since the man was walking in front of him without looking back and obviously plotting something. His behavior was too strange and unpredictable. His orders were not related to typical household situations, they followed no logic. And not only that! In the manor itself, more and more inexplicable and abnormal events kept happening. Right now, once again, Ciel couldn’t understand the train of thoughts of his master. What was Sebastian thinking about?

They stopped next to one of the doors and Sebastian opened it, leading Ciel to the room. Contrary to his expectations, it wasn’t all that creepy inside. The room wasn’t overly remarkable yet it was quite spacious since there was practically no furniture in it. The only thing left was an unnaturally massive wardrobe and a sofa standing about four meters away from it. A bad premonition refused to leave the boy because such room could have anything at all: from innocent children's toys to medieval instruments of torture.

“Stand next to the closet, opposite the sofa, and take off this soaped jacket,” Sebastian pointed to the right place, clearly feeling distaste at the sight of the foam-covered clothes. Ciel raised his eyebrows in surprise, but with a shrug, he unbuttoned his jacket. Without wasting time, he just threw it right on the floor and moved to where his lord had ordered him.

“So, what’s next?” Ciel sighed tiredly, not understanding what this circus was for. Sebastian continued to stare at him so intently that it was becoming alarming.

“Take off your shirt,” he said carelessly, narrowing his eyes. “You can leave the tie.”

“Well,” Ciel murmured, perplexed, but in the end, he decided to follow the order. After all, this hadn’t crossed the bounds of indecency yet. 

His fingers slipped to his shirt, unbuttoning it, gradually revealing his torso. The fabric was still wet, meaning that it had to be treated slowly and carefully to avoid damaging it with accidental roughness. Sebastian didn’t seem to mind his slowness, though. In fact, it appeared to please him.

Ciel finished disrobing and obediently threw his shirt somewhere to the side, though he still had a sharply black tie on his neck. It contrasted with his pale skin, making it look a bit vulgar.

“Turn around a few times and stretch your arms to the sides,” Sebastian carefully watched half-naked Ciel, who lowered his eyes. Sebastian tensed. “Move,” he commanded harshly. “I dislike being forced to wait.”

Startled, Ciel inhaled forlornly and obediently straightened his arms, making two turns around himself before returning to his original position. Andras laughed softly: the boy’s gaze was so displeased. He simply couldn’t wait to see Ciel’s further reaction to his surprises... He would make him suffer indeed. 

Ciel’s body parameters were very close to the original requirements, but just looking at him from afar wasn’t enough. He needed something more.

Rising from the sofa, Sebastian approached him and bent down a little, and Ciel flinched, tensing. Another strange action on Sebastian’s part — this was starting to get scary. And it didn’t seem to be the end. 

Sebastian’s hands touched Ciel's hips, then moved to his waist. Grabbing it, Sebastian noticed that his thumbs and index fingers failed to close around it. He was still satisfied with the results, though, so he let the boy go, receiving incomparable aesthetic pleasure at the sight of him.

“Sit down,” pondering over something, Sebastian nodded shortly toward the low-sided padded stool and walked to the closet doors. Ciel had no idea what his master was planning — not a single clue. But it was his next question that caused genuine confusion, although it was asked in an even and calm tone, “Ciel, have you ever worn a corset?”

“No, and I'm not going to.” Now that Ciel began to understand what this man was getting at, he had to seriously wonder, was this Earl Michaelis even sane?

“But ...” After these words, Sebastian took the handle of the mysterious wardrobe and opened it.

Ciel was horrified when he saw what was stored inside. Dresses! Female, damn them all to hell, dresses, and his master wanted to put one of them on him! No, it was too much. Way too much! 

Meanwhile, Sebastian already took one of them, of a cobalt shade, and pushed it in front of him, showing it to Ciel.

“Without a corset, you won’t be able to put on this amazing outfit ...” he drawled in anticipation, approaching his boy, who pressed himself into his seat in horror. Too much indeed!

Only the Almighty knew what could have happened if not for what happened next. There was a knock on the door, quiet and rather careful. Then Meilin entered the room, murmuring apologies. Her appearance was comical — she was holding a basket with linen that completely covered her eyes, which, considering her overall clumsiness, was disastrous.

“Sir, where should I put this?” she asked with a palpable tiredness in her voice, but Sebastian didn’t answer her. He was displeased. No, he was furious! 

Ciel, in turn, didn’t intend to waste his time or tolerate such treatment.

“I’ve had enough!” After these words, he jumped from the couch, walked past the maid and rushed out the door, heading straight toward his room despite his lack of proper attire.

“S-Sir?” Meilin still couldn’t see what was happening because of her massive burden.

Sebastian didn’t look at her. Sighing heavily, he threw the dress back into the closet and then slammed it shut with one wave of his hand. How naive and reckless Ciel was. He would come back. He had no other choice and Sebastian wasn’t going to chase after him.

“Take them to the laundry,” Sebastian said, heading for his bedroom.

“Yes, sir!”

Sebastian really didn’t think that everything would go this way. This was upsetting. Each of those dresses had its own story and each of their former owners now rested under a heavy layer of earth. He had done a tremendous favor for those girls when he helped them leave this life beautifully, serving as his toy for one whole night. They had all dreamed of a wonderful future with an irresistible companion — they were so shameless when they gave themselves to him without any hesitation. All of them were captivated by his charm, believing naively that they were special to him and that he would always stay by their side. But a demon, particularly the one who was a warrior at his essence, could never overcome his wild craving for destruction and the elimination of the entire human race.

Andras was bloodthirsty, but still, he gifted an unforgettable departure from life to those who managed to distinguish themselves from others. As their bodies were joined, he scratched their bodies, biting his teeth into the fragile shoulders almost to the very bones and licking crimson blood off them, temporarily subduing his soul-hungry essence. It allowed him to sustain himself and enjoy the sweetness of the newly lost innocence. He had about three hundred and seventeen dresses. The number was rather impressive but not surprising, considering that there was little he could do to suppress his boredom here on Earth.

His favorite dress was particularly interesting. Its former owner was only fifteen years old and she was also one of six daughters of Louis XV himself. Andras was still laughing whenever he thought of her. Princess? It was absurd. An empty word that supposedly indicated that a female individual belonged to some higher hierarchy. The truth was, she hadn’t differed from other mortals at all. The same naivety, equally easy to seduce. The only perk was that the consequences of her death were fascinating, causing an impressive commotion in the French kingdom.

She dreamed of being his first and last, she dreamed that he would never leave her despite the fact that Louis was cheating on her own mother with numerous mistresses. But she, like all other girls, had failed to interest Sebastian in any way to get even the slightest favor out of him.

Entertained with his nostalgic thoughts, Sebastian didn’t notice how he got to another beautiful place in the mansion. He hadn’t played for so long — without a doubt, his favorite missed him. Entering the music room, he picked up his violin, the only thing he truly cherished here.

It had the most interesting fate that he remembered up to the smallest details. This instrument was made by Antonio Stradivari himself, the best violinmaker of all times, and it wasn’t surprising in the least. Only the select few knew the story of a young man who, from the age of thirteen, had been intensely passionate about this difficult task. Rumor had it that Antonio sold his soul to the devil since the sound of the instruments he made was unearthly, charming, and unique. Many of those legends were true, but few knew the actual truth. And Mephistopheles, who had been the one to enter a contract with that man, knew it better than others.

Raising the violin with a bow, Sebastian sat down on a stool made of ebony. He lowered his shoulders, put the violin on his left one, and with a sharp wave of his wrist, he began to perform his favorite melody. It was caressing the ear with its rich notes before turning exciting by switching to more passionate and bright tones. It was another great way to pass time.

Ciel desperately didn't want to be seen in such state. This was simply outrageous. After what had occurred, he wanted to immediately hide somewhere to think about everything. And he had to do this as quickly as possible, given that in this house, besides himself, there were three more people who appeared in the most unexpected places and at the most inappropriate time. 

Reaching his room with difficulty, he quickly threw a new shirt and coat over himself and then crept out of the manor, heading to the local park to think everything over. He had no idea how to continue to work. No wonder that the amount of payment was that shamelessly high — he should have guessed what it entailed. If the working conditions were so degrading, then he wasn’t going to stay there. He was Earl Phantomhive and he didn’t deserve such attitude.

Moving away from the mansion for a decent distance, he spotted a small abandoned park. Sebastian’s house was located on the outskirts of London, so the terrain was quite deserted. The wind was strong and cool, since Ciel was glad that he’d thought of putting on a coat. Stepping on a rocky road, he spotted a lonely bench and decided to pick it. Having reached it, he sat down wearily and relaxed. He’d had to go through so much with Sebastian... And in such a short time!

Amazingly, this strange man had still managed to shake the usually cold-blooded Ciel. Now he couldn’t help but wonder gravely about further developments of working for Sebastian. Everything was bad — he couldn’t focus on the investigation properly, and it was downright depressing. Due to the excessive workload, he couldn’t afford it… on the other hand, he had boldly taken a break just now, so he could just as well use it. 

At first, he was going to visit his old friend, one who had to know who to turn to in order to get the information he needed.

“Interesting,” Mephistopheles drawled, squinting his eyes and watching the boy go somewhere. “I’m even sorry for him, a bit. He can’t escape no matter how much he wants it.” 

With a low chuckle, Mephistopheles headed toward the place where Andras himself was now. What could have happened between them to make Ciel leave the mansion?

The absence of hunger was wonderful. The soul he’d consumed may have been overly sweet, but it was a pretty good snack. A short-term contract was always a good idea, especially now that he’d learned all he needed about drawing one. 

Mephistopheles discovered Sebastian in a spacious room with good acoustics, which had been clearly created for musical instruments. Sebastian was playing the violin, so touchingly forgetting himself in the world of melodies that he didn’t even feel his presence in the room. Mephistopheles found it funny to watch him. Sometimes this demon came across as viciously bloodthirsty and merciless, but he could cherish such ordinary things. Ordinary even despite the fact that this violin had been made by the very person whose soul Mephistopheles had already swallowed long ago.

“And how long are you going to stay in this melancholic mood?” Mephistopheles asked, smirking, materializing in a sitting position right on the piano. Sebastian looked up and his eyes flashed with displeasure.

“Get down from there immediately, you are testing my patience,” he got up from the stool and put the violin in its specially designed cover.

“It feels like you're playing to escape from sadness,” Mephistopheles mocked him further, brazenly settling on the piano to his full height. “Are you so worried that this boy has left you?”

“Stop being absurd,” Sebastian jerked his shoulders in annoyance and turned away. His joy at being free of Mephistopheles’ company hadn’t lasted long. “Why are you already here? Your contracts usually take a longer time.”

“That person was very reckless,” Mephistopheles shrugged. “He was ready to do everything so that his little sister survived, and she was very ill.”

“You may have problems with the reapers if she was on their list — and she most likely was,” Sebastian said indifferently, grimacing at the mention of these creatures. One of them refused to leave him in peace.

“I dealt with everything,” Mephistopheles grinned. “I have nothing to worry about. But now I'm full,” he looked at Andras slyly, licking his lips, smiling wider when the other demon hissed angrily and turned away. Mephistopheles liked to unnerve him, and he liked to scoff at his helplessness at the fact of his hunger even more. “What happened between you that made him leave you?”

“I just wanted to see how he would look in a dress...” Sebastian shrugged innocently. “Henrietta French’s dress would be very suitable for him.”

“Not surprising then,” Mephistopheles laughed loudly in his fist. Then he finally deigned to jump from the piano, clicking his tongue. “At least you’ve managed to remember the name of one of your lovers.”

“That’s because her name was well-known. The girl herself was nothing special.”

“Like all other mortals, in your eyes,” Mephistopheles reminded him delicately. “Pity. Some of them can be very engaging. Someday, you’ll understand this.”

“I doubt it very much,” Andras raised his eyebrow contemptuously. “They are all like a gray mass. They don’t differ from each other at all; they all want the same thing.”

“We’ll skip this topic,” Mephistopheles sighed heavily, realizing that it was pointless to argue with the most stubborn inhabitant of Baator. “How do you expect to have him return to you?”

Andras didn’t answer at first. Smiling, he unbuttoned the top buttons of his silk shirt and put his hand inside. Then he pulled out a medallion on a long silver chain, with a bright blue stone in it. Mephistopheles ’eyes widened, and he awaited a response with keen interest.

“This is the second part of a blue diamond, a part of which now rests on Ciel's finger. I got this medallion from Rachel Phantomhive, and of course, the boy will want to know how I retrieved it,” Sebastian smiled mysteriously. “He will have to try hard to get at least a grain of information I possess.”

“Sometimes I am amazed at your viciousness,” Mephistopheles chuckled. “Where do you think he is now?”

“I’d say, on the right track.”

The streets of London had far more people than Ciel had expected to see. The rain had finally stopped and the weather was better than usual. Of course, the townspeople got out into the light, although it was still pretty cold. The sun wasn’t warming at all, it was impossible to see it behind a dense cover of clouds hiding the blueness of the sky with a gray, leaden-like veil. Trying not to attract attention to himself once again, Ciel continued to walk to his planned place. 

He had been looking for a source of information that would help him in the investigation for a long time. The person he was going to visit could help in finding an informant, who in turn could give him a clue. The thoughts about his position faded into the background. It was time to deal with Ciel’s own affairs and pay attention to his own concerns. Although it would be difficult to find another job, it was still possible. And this would be the next step he would take. Right now, he was acting according to his plan, and finally, the gloomy building came into his view.

“Undertaker, are you here?” Ciel went inside, looking around and trying to see at least some signs of life.

“I’m here most of the time,” the man giggled, coming out of the shadow of the room where Ciel hadn’t been able to see him before.

“That’s good,” he breathed out in relief. “I need to ask you a question.”

“You haven’t visited me for a long time. You haven’t forgotten what the fee for the information is, have you?” Undertaker sang in a joyful voice, smiling in anticipation of the award.

“I’ll just tell you that today, a man wanted to put a corset on me,” Ciel closed his eyes with his hand wearily, smiling bitterly. These words should have an effect. And he was right. Apparently, the Undertaker visualized him in that same women's corset, and soon, a loud laugh ran through the building.

“Oh, Earl...” still unable to stop his laughter, Undertaker ran a very long black fingernail down his cheek. “I’ll count these words as a joke. They were very impressive. So, what question should I answer?”

“My father had a lot of dubious acquaintances and people with whom he was in close contact. Are there those who he could trust completely? Maybe there are suspicions as to which of them could be involved in a sudden fire? I need any information,” Ciel stared at the Undertaker insistently, and the man smiled mysteriously.

“There is indeed such a person. You need Sebastian Michaelis — he might know more about that event than you expect,” Undertaker grinned and Ciel felt how cold sweat begin to rapidly cover him. “If you really want to solve your family case, then you need him.”

Ciel got back to the mansion when it was already completely dark outside. Only now had Ciel realized that it was just his first working day. Just the beginning! And he had already experienced so many events that he dreamed of quitting. It was scary to even think of what would happen next day, given that he was extremely tired and that the butler had only a short time for rest. There was nothing else he could expect.

But this wasn’t what he was worried about most. It was shameful to appear before Sebastian right now, after running away from him without explaining anything. Sebastian would surely remember this. What was even more unnerving was that this gloomy and mysterious man, who Ciel still knew very little about, was the one person he needed most.

Who owned information, owned the world — now Ciel truly understood the meaning of these words. With all his being, he was longing for revenge. He had to get this knowledge in any way he could, but what else would his master demand from him?

Going to the front door, Ciel awkwardly shifted from foot to foot. Then, having decided, he took out the key and opened it. At first, the atmosphere seemed calm, so he sighed with relief and was about to slip into his room imperceptibly when…

“First you leave quietly, then you return the same way, and all the while failing to give me any explanation.”

Just a second ago, a place near the stairs had been empty, and now Sebastian somehow appeared there, arms folded across his chest. He clicked his tongue in displeasure and shook his head, looking sternly at his butler and waiting for his reply. Ciel involuntarily shrank under his gaze.

“I beg your pardon, my lord,” he murmured, leaning forward in his apology and pressing his hand to his chest. He felt incredibly awkward. He didn’t know how to explain himself to Sebastian, who only squinted threateningly.

The next second, he abruptly grabbed Ciel by his black tie, which he hadn’t had time to take off, and roughly pulled him close. It forced Ciel to raise his head and by inertia, press closer, submitting to a rough, imperious movement. He noticed how Sebastian’s pupils had narrowed, and the irides of his eyes began to glow with a crimson flame. The sight of it made a feeling of fear settle heavily in Ciel’s chest.

“Did you want to run away from me?” Sebastian hissed right into his lips, winding his tie around his palm.

“N-no,” Ciel lied, swallowing convulsively. He was too close. “The thought never crossed my mind.”

“You are lying,” Sebastian grinned, loosening his hold abruptly. Ciel immediately took advantage of this and retreated, feeling shaken. Sebastian murmured sinisterly, “Should I remind you of the main clause of our contract?” Seeing the confusion in Ciel’s eyes, he replied himself. “Unquestioning obedience to his master.” What did you expect here? For this amount of money, you need to work accordingly, and your escape from the mansion looked like a pitiful childishness.”

The last words for Ciel were the most unpleasant. He didn’t like being called a child when he believed that he’d left the childhood age behind. It was disgusting to realize that his master was right. He had truly acted too impulsively and thoughtlessly. What should he do now? There was only one solution to this problem, an extremely unpleasant at that. But he had to step on his pride and apologize if he intended to unravel the mystery of his parents’ death. And for this, he would have to earn the trust of his master again.

“I admit that my actions were inappropriate for the butler of the house of Michaelis,” Ciel knelt before Sebastian and bowed his head submissively. “My lord, I apologize.”

Sebastian chuckled coldly and stepped closer to his servant. The boy was in no hurry to ask a question about his family... Did he want to earn his favor first? Sebastian would give him a chance to correct his misbehavior. Where had they stopped before?

“Get up,” Sebastian nodded his head, allowing the boy to straighten up to his full height. He complied and looked at him expectantly, and Sebastian grinned. “You remember at what point you ran away from me?” He arched one eyebrow cunningly, watching as Ciel paled. “We will continue from where we stopped.”

Ciel looked at him, frustrated. Damn it, Sebastian was mocking him! He couldn’t actually expect him... it was too terrible to even imagine… to wear a corset?! Yes, Ciel was doomed, and clearly nothing could be done about it. Swallowing, he took off his coat, and then started working on the buttons of his shirt again, this time the other one. Having unbuttoned everything, Ciel threw it on the floor, remaining in a black tie, naked torso, and trousers. How indecent.

“That's better,” Andras licked his lips and grabbed Ciel by his hand, once again dragging him to the dressing room. A fine end to the first working day for the butler, for sure.

Most of all, Ciel was afraid that someone would see him. If it happened, he would instantly lose the respect of the servants. Everything seemed like a nightmare. In this position, he wasn’t a butler, he was some cheap toy, and now, Ciel wasn’t sure if he was ready to face similar tasks in the future. But the fire and the opportunity to get at least some clarity meant a lot to him — he had been trying so hard to find even the slightest clue, but to no avail. For this, he would try to hold on as long as he could, even if...  
“And now let’s tighten it around you,” Andras’ eyes flashed scarlet in anticipation and he pushed the corset in front of him.

‘He's a real sadist!’ Ciel thought frantically, gritting his teeth.

“Turn around, stand facing the wall and lean against it.” For some reason, Sebastian’s words began to sound lower, getting more... it was strange for Ciel to think about it. Gathering himself, he prepared for the worst.

‘It's just a corset... just a corset...’ Ciel repeated to himself in his thoughts, like a prayer.

But these words flew out of his head as soon as his hips and waist were subjected to the terrible pressure, and the corset began to mercilessly tighten around his torso. Monstrous sensations! Not every experienced lady could withstand this squeezing pressure, and Ciel’s body was still of male proportions. 

But no, he’d suffered enough and been sufficiently humiliated, so he wasn’t going to show displeasure and resist against what was happening. He would tolerate it — it was just a corset.

Inhaling and exhaling became difficult, his breaths turned shallow. Pressure continued to push against his chest, constricting his lungs. 

Sebastian, with a glitter in his eyes, tightened the lacing of the corset. The demon's physical strength was immense, so Ciel’s ribs must have felt like gripped in a vice. It was interesting to imagine what torment he must be feeling. Poor boy. It seemed like a little more, and his bones would crack under the pressure of the force of his torturer's hands and the corset.

‘Still holding on, then. And how about this?’ Andras wondered gleefully, smirking. Then he redoubled his efforts, tightening the "tool of torture" even harder. It must have become unbearably stifling because Ciel could no longer stand it.

“Sir... please ... not so tight ...” the boy closed his eyes, balling his hands into fists.

“You were too impulsive,” Andras drawled gently, squinting his eyes. One of his hands was on Ciel’s waist as he continued to work with the other one. Then he pressed Ciel close to himself and whispered into his ear, forcing another surge of cold sweat to break through. “This is your punishment... so bear it.”

Gritting his teeth, Ciel pressed his forehead against the cold wall and waited with agonizing anticipation for when this torture would finally end. Fortunately, it happened pretty soon. A few minutes later, Sebastian let him go, but as the exhausted boy tried to breathe a sigh of relief, he found himself restrained by the disgusting corset. He was suffocating in it! How awful. God, when could he finally simply rest? A little more of this madness and he’d go crazy.

“Now, let's begin with the dress,” Sebastian took that same cobalt outfit in his hands. “Should I put it on you or can you do it yourself?” Sebastian asked derisively, looking at Ciel, who frowned indignantly. He didn’t want this man to also put a dress on him — it was crossing the boundaries of being humiliating.

“I can do it myself,” Ciel said with tangible notes of irritation in his voice and took the dress from Sebastian.

“As you wish,” Sebastian shrugged indifferently, chuckling and watching the boy hide behind the screen before starting his fight with the dress.

How long would he struggle with this intricate outfit? Young women coped with such tasks with more grace, and often with the help of maids and servants. Five minutes passed, and Ciel still didn’t leave his shelter. And Andras understood why perfectly well. Obstinate boy — of course he couldn’t fasten the clasp of the bodice on the back himself.

“What’s taking you so long?” Sebastian sighed wearily, approaching the screen.

Ciel heard his footsteps and tried to cope faster in a panic, but nothing happened. He couldn’t reach the ill-fated fastener — he did his best but nothing worked. He realized that he couldn’t do everything by himself but asking for help was embarrassing. However, Sebastian must have figured out his position because he quietly ended up right behind him. Ciel jerked abruptly from an unexpected touch on his back and waved his hands. The screen fell to the floor with a crash, though Sebastian didn’t seem to pay it any mind.

“I’ll help you now,” lowering his hand to the boy’s hip, he began to slowly but dexterously fasten the dress.

Ciel was ashamed. The ridiculous and degrading situation drove him to desperate embarrassment, and devilish fatigue had a bad effect on his well-being. His eyes were closing by themselves — he was already indifferent to everything that was happening around and almost stumbled over the furniture in the room. And yet, until the last moment, Ciel continued to maintain a vertical position, despite the fact that there was already impenetrable darkness outside the window.

The time was nearing one in the morning, and considering that he was supposed to wake up at six, the situation was truly terrible. The first day had been awful — no, it was awful since these torments hadn’t ended yet, even though Ciel had been on his feet since three o'clock in the morning. Lord, how much more did he have to take? The day stretched for what felt like an eternity. Soon, he was going to snap.

He was now desperate for sleep, he needed rest. And then there was this strange, constricting dress ... Sebastian was behaving suspiciously, slowly fastening the unfortunate outfit, but his actions now left Ciel indifferent. He felt like a puppet, submitting to any action of a puppeteer, and he couldn’t do anything about it. In the end, no matter how much he hated to admit it, he was only a weak, powerless boy.

“Good boy ...” Sebastian, with undisguised pleasure, continued to put a female dress on Ciel, feeling some nostalgia for those shameless moments of the past.

He had truly forgotten about the concept of time and about the fact that people weren’t as strong as baatezu. For these pathetic insects, nighttime rest was necessary. So Sebastian enthusiastically fulfilled his plan, wanting to force Ciel to submit to him and break as he performed his duties. And even though this mission had just begun, today's “portion” of tasks dumped on his unfortunate victim was excessive. Would Andras decide to stop? Of course not. It was foolish to expect such generosity from a demon — it could be achieved only through accidental surprises.

“It seems that I have come at the wrong time...”

Mephistopheles, who had suddenly appeared in the doorway, defused the situation. With the screen lying on the floor, there was now absolutely nothing to hide. The butler was dressed in a dress and his master was smirking ambiguously, helping him fasten this outfit. Pretty dubious situation, to put it mildly. It had a completely indecent meaning, not to mention the proximity of their bodies, which Ciel was aware of. Was it worth describing his thoughts when he realized that he was seen in such position? 

Reputation was something Ciel always thought about first. His flushed face turned pale in a few seconds and he shivered from goosebumps spreading through his skin. Covering himself in shame was impossible, and this… this was the last straw. Too many events for one day... too many emotions, too much time spent on his feet under constant stress. Sebastian had gone overboard with the tasks for today, and Ciel found himself aggravated, which was why he had so thoughtlessly escaped from service today. 

The hands with which he leaned against the wall weakened, and he simply fell into unconsciousness.

“Ciel?” A genuine surprise was reflected on Sebastian’s face. He hadn’t considered the possibility of the boy collapsing that quickly. 

Having observed this picture, Mephistopheles giggled nervously.

“Sebastian, now you have really overdone it,” Mephistopheles shook his head regretfully.

“It feels like my mansion is a courtyard for you,” Sebastian drawled in displeasure, leaning over the unconscious Ciel and stroking his chin with his fingers.

“I expected you to get used to the fact that I have to constantly monitor you,” Mephistopheles arched an eyebrow in irony, smiling. “If I were you, I would take care of the butler now. To bring him to this state on the first day... What kind of big plans for him do you have?” After these words, Mephistopheles laughed charmingly.

“That remark was unnecessary — after all, I am not some child who needs to be constantly watched,” annoyed, Sebastian glanced toward Mephistopheles, who only sighed dejectedly. “How weak these creatures are...”

“Exactly. Don't you think that it’s time for him to get some sleep?” Mephistopheles spread his hands to the sides, as if saying with his whole appearance, ‘This is elementary!’ “If you continue at the same pace, then your toy will last only for a short time.”

Sebastian just chuckled at this statement, though secretly, he realized that Mephistopheles was right. Had he really gone too far? Ciel had fainted and couldn’t even get to his own bed. By morning, Sebastian needed him to still be alive, so he would have to carry the boy to his bedroom himself. The best way entailed carrying him on his back, so Sebastian threw Ciel over his shoulder, watching how he hung limply headfirst, his hands swaying, relaxed, according to the rhythm of Sebastian’s footsteps.

Watching this comic scene, Mephistopheles tapped his fingers against his face lightly. The sight was both funny and pitiful — he could only feel sorry for Ciel. Andras obviously wasn’t going to treat him politely and prudently since human lives were meaningless to him.

Following Sebastian with his eyes, Mephistopheles smiled mysteriously, and then, removing his cylinder-like hat from his head, disappeared, quickly jumping right into it.

Ciel was so light that Andras didn’t even feel his weight on his shoulder, although along the way, he managed to drop him a couple of times, treating him as casually as he would a sack of potatoes. Ciel managed to sustain a few mild bruises, so he would obviously have a headache in the morning, which would only aggravate his already poor condition. However, at some point, Sebastian finally brought him to the bedroom. 

It was already a deep night outside, only a few hours were left before Ciel’s work had to begin, which, of course, he wouldn’t get enough sleep for. To entertain himself, Andras began to consider some disturbing methods to wake him in the morning, to spoil everything for him even further.

Placing Ciel on the bed, Andras looked at him curiously. The heavy dress, which was hampering all movements, and such a narrow corset in which Ciel was probably suffocating, looked incredibly attractive and fitted this wayward boy stunningly.

Sighing heavily, Andras turned the boy on his stomach and then undid the corset that made his breathing difficult. Due to the loss of support, the heavy hem of the dress slid down, revealing the view of... butler pants? Apparently, Ciel had been too embarrassed to find lingerie under full skirts and didn’t dare to take off his trousers. 

Andras grinned. This wouldn’t do. For the boy to relax and rest at least a little, he needed to be freed from all his clothing. Interesting, what would he think of first as he woke up in the morning completely naked and feeling like his whole body ached?

Stroking the tightened corset in unusually gentle movements, Andras pulled on the lacing, finally freeing Ciel from the stifling captivity of this vice. The boy was fast asleep, he couldn’t even imagine what exactly Sebastian was doing now. 

Sebastian smiled slyly. Ciel looked so peaceful now, although... when looking closely, something about his face betrayed his alarm.

Sebastian didn’t attach any importance to this. He continued his undressing procedure, intending to switch to another item of clothing, namely, to Ciel’s pants. The buttons were on the side, and having unbuttoned them, he pulled the pants down, completely revealing the unconscious body.

Its outlines were smooth, graceful, as if carved out of marble, and surprisingly proportional. No wonder his body fit into the corset so well. It was impossible to say that Andras didn’t like it, rather the opposite, in fact.

He didn’t deny himself the pleasure of touching the pleasantly soft skin after pulling his glove off with his teeth. Not bad for a human creature. The memories of his adventures involuntarily came to mind, and it was now that Sebastian truly wanted to consider crossing this line. Ciel was hellishly innocent and depraved at the same time. The impulse to taste him was nearly unbearable.

No, not yet.

Sebastian found the strength to break away. After all, the boy really needed to rest. The victim was much more interesting when it resisted.

Despite this, Andras decided to stay in the room to watch his butler because of the immense boredom plaguing him. He could either do this or tolerate the annoying company of Mephistopheles, who he absolutely couldn’t stand after several hundred years. 

After a while, frank bewilderment appeared on Andras’ face. The boy thrashed in his bed from side to side, his eyelashes trembling, betraying his clear concern. He was dreaming of something unpleasant, but Andras couldn’t find out what it was — he didn’t possess the ability to penetrate someone else's mind. He could only observe. Still, he simply couldn’t hide a quiet, ironic laughter: Ciel, at this moment, was more open than ever and had no chance of disguising his emotions under the mask of composure. Being lost in his dreams, he didn’t control his own feelings, so they were in a hurry to escape.

Through his sleep, Ciel felt a burning look on himself. He immediately opened his eyes and sat up on the bed. Sebastian wasn’t ready for such a turn of events — he didn’t expect that Ciel would be able to wake up now. Tired and exhausted, he should have remained sleeping, but apparently, the feeling of the eyes of a monster was bothering him even through his dreams.

In a short moment, Ciel turned his gaze to where Sebastian stood. In the dark, he was able to make out the attentive gaze directed at him by two eyes burning with hellfire. Gasping lightly, Ciel shut his eyes. Then he looked back at the place where just a minute ago, it seemed to him that the Devil himself was standing. This time, he didn’t see anything supernatural, but the terrible chill remained.

“What’s happening to me ...” Ciel closed his eyes wearily and leaned back against his pillow. He had so little time left… he needed some more sleep.

For Ciel, the morning started awfully. His head was splitting apart, and on the top of it, he could find two disturbing bumps. And this wasn’t where all the “pleasant” things ended. His “merciful” master must have understood perfectly that Ciel would simply be unable to wake up on his own, and the alarm clock would most likely be useless. As the result, he hadn’t thought of anything better than to order Meilin to come to Ciel’s room exactly at five in the morning and wake him up with a jug filled with ice water. Since the girl was too afraid to disobey him, she agreed to follow such order. 

She quietly sneaked into the room but didn’t dare to look at the sleeping Ciel. He looked too sweet, and at this sight, she would have definitely been unable to pour the cold water on him. So instead, she kept her eyes down and followed Andras’ order perfectly, thereby securing Ciel’s terrible mood.

“What the hell was that?!” Ciel’s angry cry certainly woke Finny and Bard up, who were sleeping peacefully in their beds.

Not that there was something surprising in Ciel’s shout. It was unlikely that someone would have a wonderful frame of mind if they awakened after being covered with cold water, without being given enough time to recuperate. Well, that’s the butler’s job, and serving in the Michaelis mansion was particularly difficult. Ciel understood this from the bitter experience of a crazy first day — he firmly realized that his master was incredibly difficult and unpredictable.

But to remember that all this was only the beginning was even worse than recalling in detail all sophisticated humiliations of this bastard. And he simply couldn’t quit because it would mean abandoning his investigation. Since Sebastian, the disgusting tyrant, was involved in this, no matter what he tried to do, Ciel was obliged to cope with it. Regardless of the rules of the game, it was definitely worth it.

Ciel sighed, feeling the impending doom, and threw back the soaked sheets. An unpleasant feeling of cold caused him to shiver, sending goosebumps running through his body, and he hurried to get some clothes. He was lucky as a new and most importantly, a dry suit was peacefully resting on a chair, catching his eye immediately. 

Oddly enough, this thoughtful gesture had been made by Sebastian. Despite the fact that he, as a stern master, didn’t plan to help his butler with absolutely anything, he still showed some concern. After all, the first day with Ciel was rich and amazingly diverse, so he had to give him his dues.

When Ciel finished the morning dressing procedure, there was a knock on the door. It was the maid again — the knock wasn’t too sharp and it had a timid tone.

“Mr. Ciel, Mr. Sebastian has asked me to tell you that you need to prepare our hall for the upcoming evening reception.” After these words, she gave Ciel a sheet with detailed instructions on what had to be done. Ciel quickly ran his eyes over it and frowned in puzzlement.

“So much for the uncommunicative Earl Michaelis,” Ciel coughed several times into his fist and Meilin only shrugged, confused, as if saying, ‘Well, who can understand the motives of this psycho?’

“I heard that he arranges such events every decade, and each subsequent time should be more impressive than the previous one,” the girl frowned. “He’s already had a lot of them, it seems... He told us himself.”

“But this is pure nonsense!” Ciel couldn’t stop his surge of indignation. “He is about twenty-five years! Thirty at most. Anyway, why didn't he give me these instructions personally?”

“Well... I had to approach him early in the morning, but he was in a hurry to go somewhere,” Meilin glanced down, remembering that it was then when she filled the ill-fated jug with water. “He’s not in the manor, but he strictly ordered you to follow the list and prepare everything for the upcoming feast.”

“Feast?” Ciel raised his eyebrows in surprise, simultaneously folding a piece of instructions and hiding it in the inside pocket of his coat. “But he didn’t even point out the dishes he wants me to prepare…” It upset him in a way. He’d been looking forward to demonstrating his culinary art skills. This would increase his authority in the eyes of his master.

“In all the time that I spent working here, I realized one important thing: you must always follow the instructions clearly. If the list of the dishes is not specified, then they shouldn’t be prepared,” Meilin smiled encouragingly.

Ciel sighed heavily. Another difficult day was lying ahead because at the upcoming feast, there surely would be noble audience to impress. They would also need to move the piano from the music hall on the second floor to the reception hall on the first one. If he could handle everything in a short time, he would be free for the day. Sebastian was obviously hiding something and Ciel planned to search his office in the hope of finding something useful there. But in order to proceed with this, it was necessary to carry out the tasks assigned to him. He was ready.

In an hour, Ciel and the servants had gotten more than a half of work done, although Finney had managed to stumble a couple of times on the stairs due to his clumsiness. Because of his utter destructiveness, there were scratches left on the stairs, but they were safely covered with a carpet, so Ciel didn’t feel any worries about this. They were also able to move the piano safely and securely to the main hall, placing it in the center. After that, Ciel allowed himself to sit down for a little rest.

He was pleased with his progress. Round tables were covered with light tablecloths with barely noticeable floral designs and gold trim. They were arranged in a perfect order throughout the entire room. The colors looked soothing and contrasted well with the light chestnut walls covered with intricate patterns. All items were situated neatly and the fireplace crackled pleasantly.

However, Sebastian didn’t appear until the very evening.

Ciel had the impression that he was working in vain, but if he quitted everything at this stage, the mystery would remain unsolved forever. And what if he was wrong? What if Sebastian really knew something? Leaving would mean losing any chance of getting information that could lift the veil of secrecy at least slightly.

Wanting to pass the time, Ciel sat down on the piano stool and played the first chords, and after some time, a gentle melody began to be born from under his fingers. It filled the room with its sound, slipping beyond its borders. The boy lost himself entirely within it, focusing only on the movements of his wrists. It lasted for about a minute only but Ciel still lost track of time. It seemed to him that he was playing for over an hour and he simply couldn’t stop.

“Did I permit you to play?”

From the sound of this powerful voice, everything inside Ciel went cold. He understood perfectly well whom he served and submitted to, and this only led to confusion. 

Collecting himself, he stopped playing, removing his hands from the keys silently. No, he wasn’t going to fall on his face even now. Instantly rising from the stool and slamming the lid of the piano shut, Ciel looked at his master resolutely. Sebastian stood two meters away and burned him with a withering look. The anger wasn’t present in that gaze — rather, there was some sort of a hidden grin there. 

Contrary to circumstances, Ciel wasn’t going to stay silent.

“I beg your pardon, my lord,” he dropped to one knee, continuing to emanate ostentatious humility, and modestly added, “I couldn’t overcome the temptation to try it out.”

“Well, that’s quite all right,” Sebastian spread his lips in a smile and shrugged. However, the strange cunning sparkles didn’t disappear from his eyes.

Suddenly, something shiny drew Ciel’s gaze toward Sebastian’s chest, and upon looking closer, he inhaled sharply. His shirt was half-unbuttoned, revealing a blue diamond that hung from a silver chain. Glancing at the ring on his own finger, Ciel found himself paralyzed from shock.

“Where did you get this?” he looked at the jewelry, tension vibrating in his body, and Sebastian smiled impishly.

“Do you really want to know that?” he mischievously arched his eyebrow, already knowing exactly what the answer would be.

“Of course,” Ciel nodded decisively. He felt that this was the missing piece of the mosaic, one that he had been searching for through the entire office of his master in his absence. Sebastian was thinking about something, and then his face changed, making Ciel think that some idea must have occurred to him. From such an insidious expression, Ciel understood that he wouldn’t like it.

“Let's go,” Sebastian beckoned Ciel to follow him and they headed towards the dressing room. “The reception will begin soon. I think you will do your new role justice.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ㅤMaster Sebastian  
> ㅤInspired by the Corset scene  
> ㅤArtist: [Miriche](https://www.deviantart.com/miriche)


	5. The Butler at the Feast

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The feast at the Michaelis mansion is very different from those organized in the era of Victorian England. Ciel finds himself in the crowd of bloodthirsty baatezu, each of whom is capable of sullying his honor, spirit, and faith.

#### November 13, Friday, 1893.

The small hand of the clock almost reached the “VII” mark. Outside the manor’s window, the sky darkened noticeably, with shadowed silhouettes of the trees growing barely visible. They betrayed their location only occasionally, by rocking slightly under the gusts of the cool wind. The reception was supposed to start within just a few minutes, but none of the thirty-six guests ever arrived in advance. 

The most important and fastidious ones allowed themselves to be late, but Sebastian never worried. He knew they would come, he knew it very well. They would arrive because this time, in honor of his last days on Earth, Sebastian had prepared a special dish, one he couldn’t afford to taste himself, to his deepest regret.

During such a long time of banishment, Andras had really learned patience. Although most likely, he merely believed it to be so. He was always greedy and insatiable, even though it didn’t prevent him from being one of the best soldiers of Baator. At the same time, the servants of Beelzebub often reminded him that, if to proceed from the scale of souls he’d absorbed back in 1351, their master would be quite amendable toward the idea of accepting him into his ranks. Yet despite all his inclinations, Andras continued to be faithful to Baal since if he were to choose between anger and gluttony, then the former clearly prevailed.

Sebastian frequently returned to Baator in his thoughts, and the more often this happened, the more strongly his essence wanted to become free again. Despite being held in this limbo for five hundred and forty-two years, Andras felt that the remaining waiting time would pass as painfully slowly as the years before. However, now was not the best time to indulge in nostalgic thoughts. Only seven minutes remained, and the servants had managed to leave the estate just a few seconds ago. All but one, who was now clearly too busy to humbly await Sebastian and his guests in the hall.

Of course, according to the rules of etiquette, the butler had to always be nearby. He also had to be the first to meet the guests at the entrance, but... due to the special extravagance of the upcoming event, Sebastian had assigned him a slightly different task, although no less dangerous and much more embarrassing. All this would be revealed later, though, since now he needed to wait for someone else.

Andras whistled loudly, thus causing one of the windows to burst open. The cold wind immediately broke into the hall, trying to put out all the candles and immerse everything in the darkness. It failed in its task because for some reason, the candles continued to burn. Suddenly, there was a faint rustle, and someone's small silhouette began to appear. After another moment, a black bird flew into the room. It croaked loudly, and then, making a couple of laps over Andras’ head, it landed on his outstretched arm.

“You came back on time, Raum,” Andras grinned, pleased, and gently ran his fingers over the dark plumage. “Take your true form.”

Letting out an obedient crow, the creature took off at a short distance and then began to descend slowly. At the same time, its body started to change its shape. The silhouette lengthened noticeably, and then the dark feathers began to pour from it one by one, transforming into a strange red-and-black suit decorated with a red ornament that distantly resembled a skeleton pattern. Raum stepped onto the marble floor with human legs, shod in elegant red patent leather shoes with a small heel. Finally, still flapping his wings and transforming them into human hands, he shook his short, dark ash hair and raised his loyal brown eyes to his master.

“I found out what you asked me for, Your Grace,” Raum humbly bowed his head before Andras and pressed his hand to his chest.

“It can wait. I wish you to meet the guests as befits someone in your position, and...” Sebastian turned around. Glancing around the decorated hall, he clapped his hands loudly. “We need an orchestra!”

“You want a lot this year.” Mephistopheles, having materialized before Andras, rolled his eyes. “It’s good that this is the last reception I will have to sponsor.”

“This is also your duty,” Andras shrugged ironically. “In the end, I have to get at least something for having to constantly tolerate your company.”

“Then you could also ask me to decorate the main hall along with the whole estate,” Mephistopheles said sarcastically, folding his arms over his chest. “I’m surprised that so far, I had to deal only with "dinner" and drinks.”

“’Ask’?” Sebastian arched an eyebrow in contempt. He would have loved to engage in yet another round of barbs exchange, but unfortunately, there wasn’t enough time for this. “I will not allow myself to fall to such baseness. I submit only to Him, the rest is empty space to me. I’m the one who gives them orders.” 

“Your audacity will not bring you any good, Andras. I will be very interested in watching you when you sign the contract,” Mephistopheles replied, and Sebastian's face visibly darkened.

With a chuckle, Mephistopheles snapped his fingers.

The musicians have appeared. The room began to expand along with the walls, and the ceiling started arching even more deeply, creating more space. It took the form of a dome, with a huge chandelier with two hundred candles hanging in the center. Each of them was placed on a patterned gold stand. The light chestnut walls were now of a much darker shade, acquiring a slightly reddish tint. The white tablecloths turned black, although they didn’t change their golden pattern. The tables were now standing against the walls, and the main drinks of this evening towered on them. They comprised the ordinary rich selection of all kinds of wines as well as human blood, which was in special demand. 

Getting it in such quantity and not arousing suspicions would have been rather difficult if not for Mephistopheles, who was allowed a free reign on Earth. Those like him could revel in being in the world of people, though this pleasure could lose its appeal very quickly.

These were far from all the delights of the upcoming evening. In the festive hall, the small stage was what stood out most. There were six poles on it, and each had a girl standing nearby, who Andras and Mephistopheles had bought from a fairly cozy brothel. Twenty more of such girls settled on small sofas located throughout the hall, and the remaining ten were ready to carry the drinks. The appearance of each was rather vulgar and overly explicit. The image was further enhanced by the black blindfolds put on their faces, through which it was impossible to see anything. Thanks to this little trick, none of them would understand what was happening around. The only exception was the waitresses of a sort, but their blindfolds were just a little more transparent, not allowing them to see anything other than vague silhouettes. This way, the girls differed from each other only in hair color.

At the end of the banquet, the soul of each one was supposed to be devoured by the demon-guests. The girls naively believed that one very rich man had bought them and had arranged a kind of celebration where they would have to show all their skills; this was partly so, but none of them guessed about their true purpose. In other words, most of the hard work Ciel had done was in vain, only for the sake of one of Sebastian’s whims. Only the black piano, which now stood near the orchestra itself, remained untouched.

“Go,” Sebastian nodded to Raum, who bowed respectfully in response and took his position the next second.

“I didn’t think he had enough strength to maintain human appearance in this dimension,” Mephistopheles looked interestedly at Raum, who resembled a lantern with how he froze at the entrance, with his purely black long robe and flickering pale face.

“This is not quite true. He is as weak as I am now. The potential of my strength is shackled by the punishment, and therefore, his is too. But it hasn’t disappeared entirely. I rarely order him to take this form, but... let's just say, once a year, he is quite able to stay as a human for several hours. He can save and store additional energy.’

“But at the previous events, I have never seen him in human form.” Mephistopheles grinned, rolling his eyes. “Usually, you don’t throw your human servants out either, though they are no longer in a working condition at that point. Where is your new butler?”

“I dressed him up a bit,” Sebastian’s pupils narrowed as he felt a dark aura approaching him. “But it doesn’t matter. They are almost here.”

Andras stretched his lips in an anticipatory smile while the flame in the fireplace began to grow in size. A pair of dark green eyes flashed there, accompanied by a sly grin. The fiery face started to take on an ever more distinct form, and a silhouette of a human figure materialized slowly alongside it. But it was not a man that stepped from the fireplace. Licking his lips predatorily, the newly emerged baatezu slowly set his foot on the marble floor and then straightened up, fully revealing himself to the owner of the estate. 

Abaddon was the first to appear, then. Despite the fact that this demon belonged to a higher class, he wasn’t going to be late because Andras, as the host of the event, was his longtime friend. Grinning smugly, Abaddon pulled down the lapels of his emerald camisole and headed toward him, extending his right hand for a friendly handshake.

“Glad to see you again, Andras,” Abaddon smiled, feeling Sebastian shake his hand in response. “From what I see, with each decade, you grow visibly hungrier. But still in good shape — I can respect that.”

Mephistopheles turned away and rolled his eyes again. He was always annoyed with Andras’ acquaintances. They all had a similar temperament, being pompous, arrogant, horribly stubborn and sometimes almost as prickly as he was himself.

“I return the sentiment, Abaddon. You are as amazingly punctual as ever. I know you tend to be busy, and yet you spare me the time at the first opportunity,” Sebastian moved his shoulders ironically.

Suddenly, Raum, who had been humbly standing near the entrance to the mansion, jerked back to awareness and loudly proclaimed, “They are coming, my lord!”

In confirmation of these words, a loud tramp of hoofs of black stallions could be heard nearby. There were five of them, and the first couple was driving a magnificent carriage along a sandy road. The other three had riders on them. With obvious excitement, they hurried to the estate, spurring their horses. One of them handled his mount so deftly and gracefully that he outpaced all other demons. Laughing merrily, leaving high pillars of dust behind him, he sharply slowed down the stallion and jumped down from it, landing near the main staircase. 

Having effectively adjusted the motley scarf, he entered the door that opened for him immediately. He was palpably satisfied that his arrival was accompanied by the loud sound of the orchestra as well as the fact that one of the most charming persons approached him. She was holding a glass on a golden tray, the terrible contents of which she didn’t even know about. The young woman coped with her work well, considering that her translucent blindfold allowed her to distinguish only the outlines of the objects.

The guest pulled her toward him, took a couple of sips, licked his lips and headed for the three baatezs in the center of the hall. Andras sighed at the unexpected guest, feeling the impending doom.

The fact that someone could give up his place and offer it to another demon was rather predictable. And the rules of etiquette required the host to comply.

“Isacaron, I'm flattered that you honored us with your presence here,” Sebastian smiled, though his smile was rather cold.

“Of course, the Great Marquis, I could not possibly miss it,” Isacaron slightly bowed his head, recognizing the higher status of the creature in front of him. And he couldn’t help but pay attention to others. “Abaddon and Mephistopheles, accept my greetings as well.” The first nodded, for he was not going to waste his royal attention on everyone, while the second simply curled the corner of his lips. Despite the fact that there were thirty-six guests, due to the unpredictability of Baator's events, some of them could not come. That's why they gave their invitation to someone else. Isacaron was among those who received such second-hand invitation, but he did not appear embarrassed because of it and calmly asked, “When will the dancing begin?”

“Very soon,” Mephistopheles answered for Andras, smiling, and the latter looked at him sharply. He understood the meaning of his words perfectly. The rest of the demons began to cross the threshold — some simply opened the windows from the outside and jumped into them.

The evening was coming to life as each of the guests was obliged to greet the host of this event. They all looked almost like humans because of the taboo imposed on the transformation in the mortal world. There were a little more than thirty; some were late. Almost all of those present were Sebastian’s colleagues since their activities were related to war. The majority of the guests were males — the baatezu chose their gender depending on their positions. Baatezu women were fewer in number, but their political status was much higher because they were the ones who replenished the legions. Currently, only two were in attendance.

Each victim was carefully prepared and presented at its best. Girls from brothels usually didn’t ask too many questions, and they didn’t need to be pumped up with various substances to cloud their minds. Considering their experience, they were more liberated, and therefore, they were perfect for the role of dessert. The guests wouldn’t be bored with them after a couple of minutes, so they would be tolerable company for the whole evening — just what was required from disposable toys.

The guests raised their glasses, looking at Sebastian who was about to make a toast.

“For the sake of the last evening!” Andras raised his glass higher, slyly flashing his scarlet eyes, and then, invitingly, he took a big sip from it, deliberately not clinking it with others’ glasses, the point that the others immediately replicated.

Mephistopheles waved his hand toward the conductor, and the orchestra began to play another piece. Many of the guests decided to go to the center of the hall to immerse themselves into dancing and debauchery. However, Sebastian himself mainly stuck to discussing important political issues at such events as it was his rare opportunity to talk to colleagues and learn about what was happening in his homeland. It helped him maintain his status without losing influence in the circles of his acquaintances even during the period of the punishment.

“Andras, this celebration is no less grandiose than the previous ones, I am flattered to be present again,” Naberius shook hands with him. He was currently performing Sebastian’s function as the commander-in-chief of the Eighth Circle's army while Sebastian himself was temporarily removed from business. “Our master is bored, there are less wars now than in the golden years of your sword.”

“But we have arrived not just to praise you for your hospitality. I would prefer to discuss it in a more intimate setting,” Sargatanas demonstrated an envelope with a scarlet seal and Sebastian stilled, confused. This was already the second important message of this year from Astaroth, who wrote all the Baator codes.

“Let's go to my temporary office,” Andras headed to the second floor.

Ciel stared at his reflection in the mirror, carefully examining every bare strip of skin. His hands uncertainly slipped along his shoulders up and down. With these movements, Ciel, with a certain despair, wanted to create an illusion of security, although he knew very well that little could help him now, no one other than himself. At the moment, he simply didn’t recognize himself in the reflection in front of him. And this was not surprising, considering that he was wearing a new black corset and an indecent, flying, semitransparent skirt that exposed one of his legs. 

Honestly, the only consolation was that in such state, no one would recognize him as once-Earl Phantomhive. They would see the debauched girl whose services could always be obtained in a cheap brothel. 

Though maybe not. Calling his outfit cheap wasn’t possible, but it was one thing to see some pretty lady in it and another thing to view himself as such.

Ciel was a butler first and foremost — at least he stubbornly saw himself this way. Yet it was obvious that his opinion differed from that of his master. After all, the butler in this house apparently had to perform every possible role there was! A maid, then a gardener, back to maid again, even a whipping boy, if to recall those cruel punishments… and finally, a girl of easy virtue. The latter obviously should not have been included into the standard list of all services. Now Ciel finally understood what that “unquestioning obedience to his master” meant because he couldn’t think of anything worse.

And with all this, Sebastian had recently delicately hinted to Ciel that he was at the serious risk of losing his position. Failing to find out anything, having spent so much energy for nothing and completely losing the chance to somehow grab this thin thread in order to investigate the death of his family? Needless to say, when Sebastian ordered him to do _this_ , Ciel was speechless. But what else he could do but obey if the hostage was one of the most valuable things, information.

Ciel had learned of his individual duty for this event about three hours ago.

“Tonight, there will be many important guests. You will perform for them, and you will be dressed in the same way as my young assistants...” Andras laughed mockingly, watching the perplexity on Ciel's face. He proceeded to explain, “I will tighten that corset around you again, and I also want to see you in this.”

After that, Andras disappeared back into the hall. The next second, he personally demonstrated a young girl who could be safely identified as one of the prostitutes. Slyly looking at Ciel’s paling face, he squeezed her shoulder lightly, using his second hand to run it across her open outfit, showing it off.

“You mean ...” Ciel was afraid of his own assumptions, considering that there was already a fair amount of compromising information that could ruin his reputation. Andras just stretched his lips in an anticipatory smile and nodded his head several times.

“Exactly, Ciel. You will perform in this outfit. Fulfill this order properly and you will receive encouragement from me in the form of an answer to one of your questions.”

The task that he would have to perform seemed like the worst possible thing to Ciel. He had to go to the hall right in the midst of the evening arranged by Sebastian. And not just go there but demonstrate his piano skills. The Phantomhives did not give up and overcame all difficulties, but... wearing a woman's dress… this was another mockery.

The fulfillment of such tasks as dragging a grand piano together with Finnie from one floor to another could be considered as child's play in comparison. Maybe even a calm before the storm since that work did not carry any shameful consequences and intentions with it. But Ciel was convinced that with this new assignment, his master intended to recoup all those hours of calm his absence had brought. It was scary to imagine what could be waiting for him in store. And what if one of the guests wanted to “get acquainted” with him a bit closer? Formally, they would not break any rules because Ciel’s current appearance was hard to misinterpret.

“Come in, it's here,” a barely audible voice came from the corridor, and Ciel started.

He frowned when he recognized where the fussing came from. Sebastian's office was located there.

Suddenly, a sound of the door slamming could be heard, and this could only mean one thing: someone had sneaked into his office, though Ciel wasn’t sure whether it was Sebastian or someone else. If one of the guests wanted to explore it, then this clearly had to be stopped.

Quietly sneaking into the corridor, Ciel began to move toward the right door. He was tiptoeing slowly, step by step, watching the long hem of the skirt that was halting his movements. Because of it, Ciel seriously risked being caught. Besides, the long curls of false hair were falling right into his eyes. It was uncomfortable but nothing could be done — Ciel's curiosity had been intense for as long as he remembered himself.

Ciel never had the habit of eavesdropping, or rather, he didn’t really misuse it. It was a couple of times... well, maybe a little more. It made absolutely no difference. But what if whatever was happening now was directly related to him? After all, Ciel perfectly remembered Sebastian’s suspiciousness and that necklace that couldn’t have simply fallen into his hands like that. Obviously, something was hidden from him, something that Ciel persistently tried to catch, to remember, and which was constantly eluding him.

Exhaling jerkily and carefully leaning his ear against the door, Ciel began to listen.

Having taken his usual place at the head of the desk, Andras gazed at the demons, letting them know that they could to sit in the opposite chairs. They obeyed instantly. Their appearance was somewhat strange, one might say conspiratorial, and Sebastian desperately wanted to understand why. When Sargatanas and Naberius themselves visited you, something serious was clearly at play. These thoughts distracted Andras so much that he focused entirely only on the two of his guests. He didn’t even feel that the scent of his desired soul had somewhat intensified. 

However, the others were obviously not indifferent to what was happening either. 

Sargatanas showed the same envelope again and put it right in front of Andras. They always had to use this form of transmission of direct instructions or messages because the true language of Baatar sounded too gloomy in these parts and could bring a lot of trouble with it. The moment an ordinary person saw these letters, they risked losing their mind. The ancient alphabet, long forgotten by people, awakened only the darkest memories and the most secret fears.

“Well, I think that this time, the news won’t disappoint you,” Sargatanas grinned and crossed his fingers, leaning his arms against the armrests and gazing at him with interest.

“You have not been forgotten. Some people have put in a few words for you,” Naberius smiled encouragingly at the clueless Sebastian, who shrugged and opened the letter with his black nails. And as soon as his eyes ran through the text…

“A shortened term?” Andras’ face must have had such a naive bewilderment on it that his colleagues laughed.

“Precisely,” the demons uttered this phrase simultaneously. “Seven more days ... Sebastian? This is your name here, right?”

“Right,” Sebastian’s lips pursed in surprise. He stared at the letter intently for a while longer, overcoming his astonishment, but then his mood changed dramatically. With a sigh, he laughed softly. Sargatanas and Naberius exchanged glances, and Sebastian rolled his eyes haughtily.

“And you are giving me this “favor” just now? Naturally. When else except this last year, when I have already spent five hundred and forty-two of them under this punishment,” Sebastian impertinently leaned back in his chair, arms folded across his chest.

He couldn’t help the obstinacy that was manifesting itself now. There was a reason why Andras always stubbornly claimed that he obeyed only Baal and no one else. 

The boy behind the door visibly tensed at the number "five hundred and forty-two." If all the words were truthful, then this conversation had just taken a very strange turn. Maybe even a supernatural one.

At this time, Naberius exhaled forlornly, knowing full well that such manifestations of character could be expected. Sargatanas pursed his lips in displeasure — to say that he didn’t like such behavior was to say nothing. But in reality, they had no right to threaten this demon , even if he was temporarily imprisoned on Earth. In terms of his strength, he equaled them, and he was clearly superior when it came to stubbornness of the attacks.

“Be content with what you get, Sebastian,” Sargatanas chuckled arrogantly, squinting his eyes in irritation and doing his best to drawl the pronunciation of such a human... nickname mockingly, causing Andras obvious displeasure. “A week is much better than a year.”

“There is almost no difference!” Sebastian threw his hands up the air, but then he managed to pacify his ardor. “Well, since all matters have been settled, I propose to continue the feast.”

It was after Sebastian had uttered these words that Ciel, who was still on the other side of the door, turned pale with horror and hurried away. He’d heard enough. Now he had to actually analyze this information. But as soon as he abruptly jerked to the side, his flying skirt simply went up and got caught by the door handle. Ciel felt like the ground was rapidly dissolving from beneath his feet.

‘Damn! Not now, not this!’

Considering his outfit, Ciel’s panic began to increase, making his movements even more chaotic. Fortune was still on his side in some way because the iron handle was round, moving barely noticeably, so Ciel still had a chance at salvation. Everything just needed to be done quickly. But nothing worked, and the outfit in which he had to perform later couldn’t be just torn carelessly. 

Gathering his courage, Ciel leaned against the door and slowly began to free the fabric from the unexpected captivity. The mansion was so richly furnished that some gems were implanted even into the door handle. And it was these gems that were slowly digging Ciel’s grave because he still couldn’t cope with such a seemingly simple task. The more he fumbled, the more it seemed to him that the steps were approaching. His horror was growing.

“We can't,” Naberius pursed his lips miserably. “We have too much work. There is a recalculation of the troops happening, as well as the filling of the personal physical parameters of every baatezu.” His face visibly darkened after these words. Well, it was not surprising, such tasks were indeed exceedingly tiring.

“My fate is no better,” Sargatanas grinned evilly. “Working with archives...”

“Of course,” Sebastian smiled as just those words were enough for him to understand their implications. “See you, then.”

Watching the two demons move toward the instantly roaring flame and then entering it, merging with it, Andras smiled in satisfaction and headed for the exit. Now, when he was not distracted by anything, he could sense the scent of the soul clearly, and it made him pause. Forming a vague understanding of what was happening, he abruptly opened the door and... there was a loud crash. Stunned, Sebastian stared at Ciel who was sitting against the wall, pale with fear.

It seemed that from the impact, he fell down, thereby giving himself away. He didn’t look half-bad right now. Also, did Ciel not think that even if it happened by chance, spreading his legs so widely was indecent? It was nearly impossible to distinguish him from the girl right now, although in the end, it didn’t really matter. Well, apart from the chance to see the boy with such desperate embarrassment on his face once again — it was really worth a lot.

“Get up,” burning the boy with an icy stare, Andras propped his chin on his hand, curiously stroking it with his fingers.

Ciel exhaled frantically and closed his eyes, calling on his courage. Using the wall behind him as his crutch, he began to rise to his feet. On such high heels, it wasn’t at all easy, at least for him. 

Sebastian, catching this anxiety, smiled broadly and began to approach him, making him even more anxious. Coming closer, he leaned toward Ciel, almost pressing him against the wall. And still, despite such threatening intimacy, Ciel was able to pull himself together. He understood what was happening. He knew Sebastian did not tolerate wimps, and breaking the spirit of someone as stubborn as he was must delight him.

A palm touched his cheek, gently lifting his face a little higher. Sebastian grinned, watching Ciel get more and more flustered.

“However, you still have to explain what you were doing here,” Sebastian abruptly pulled away, taking a couple of steps back and looking expectantly at Ciel. Ciel was pretty good at the art of lying, and his acting talents were often superior, so after brief hesitation, he decided to use them.

“Sir, I can assure you that I was just heading to the first floor,” he spoke so confidently that Andras almost believed him. “I was going to start performing my task, but I was in a hurry and I failed to cope with the dress... As a result, the skirt got tangled and stuck on the door handle that you subsequently opened so suddenly.”

“If I didn’t know how slippery you are and how much you don’t want to go downstairs, I would have undoubtedly believed you, but not now,” Sebastian sneered ironically, driving Ciel into a barely perceptible embarrassment. Suddenly, his gaze cooled. “What exactly did you hear?”

The boy’s fate depended on his answer because Andras was quite ready to finish his own dinner off ahead of time if the secret of the existence of their race was at stake. Overly curious personalities often paid with their own lives for their flaw, and the fact that Ciel’s entire family had been engaged in the investigation of the darkest things for years didn’t change anything.

“And I advise you not to lie to me this time — I can immediately recognize it when you do it.”

“Actually, I really want to solve the case of my family, and you know this perfectly well,” Ciel was tired of such a scornful attitude toward him, so he was starting to show his true character once again. He crossed his arms over his chest, directing a bold look at the blue diamond in his master's medallion. “But this does not mean that I would become engaged in espionage. With my current state—” to demonstrate his words better, Ciel seized one of the gray strands of hair on his head and squeezed it, “doing this would be absolutely inconvenient. I beg your pardon, master, but not this time,” he finished sarcastically, turning away sharply.

Due to the moral exhaustion of all these intense events, Ciel's mood was changing at a breakneck pace. It was daunting but Ciel couldn’t help it. He was just pissed off at almost every object in this mansion. His soul desperately sought to once again become who he really was. That is, Earl Ciel Phantomhive, not some boy who’s running errands. But nothing could be done. This monstrous stage had to be passed in order to successfully escape from the dirt. 

Once again reproaching himself for being so quick to anger, Ciel gritted his teeth, clenched his hands into fists to the crunch of bones, and then slumped down on one knee, bowing his head to his master. However, Sebastian could swear that all this performance was given only to hide his unnecessarily violent facial expression. 

But that was not all as Ciel continued again, suddenly speaking very quietly.

“Let me change my clothes. Because of this situation, my... outfit began to look too indecent to wear it in public.”

“You call that public?” Sebastian laughed ironically, still lost in his own thoughts and examining the battered skirt critically. “The outfit is fine, no one will think you’re something other than the common whore anyway. It will do. If your skirt has become shorter, it doesn’t mean that you will not have to perform,” Andras turned away from him, forcing Ciel to burn his back with a hateful look. “Go, get up the stage and play. The guests feel very bored. I’ll be watching you, and if you don’t come... ”Sebastian made a half turn, demonstrating the medallion. “Don't even expect me to tell you about it.”

“Well, I’m ready,” taking a deep breath, Ciel pulled himself together and moved confidently toward the stairs leading to the first floor.

The farther he got, the worse he felt because the suspense tormented him. Ciel had no idea what might happen next and how everyone else would react to his appearance. He was one hundred and twenty percent sure that Sebastian hadn’t warned anyone about his performance. Ciel saw no sense in this order — nobody would take him seriously in this outfit. Then again, no one would also know who he was. At least some good news.

But this didn’t solve the problem because Ciel had a clear feeling that, most likely, Sebastian had sent him to perform this task merely to disgrace and humiliate him. Ciel wasn’t a fool, he had previously lived in most elite conditions, and he remembered very well people’s general impression about the prostitutes. For the most part, they were not considered people, and the public saw them merely as some objects used to satisfy one’s carnal pleasures. Their lives didn’t matter to anyone until, for example, their mass murders began.

But overall, they were despised. And Ciel was well aware that he despised them with the rest, not thinking that they deserved a different attitude. But the cards were laid down in a way that now, the heir of the noble family whose ancestors were in the service of the kings and queens of England was forced to work as a butler and perform some tasks that equated him to these same prostitutes. Outwardly, at least. He wasn’t going to stoop to what they actually did.

When he finally got to the hall, Ciel went speechless. This celebration was clearly not normal. If elegance was what reigned during ordinary events, then debauchery was the main point of attraction here. Not only was the atmosphere mostly intimate due to a small number of candles, but the guests were a bit... different as well.

Just looking to his right, Ciel saw two kissing women, and one of them, who was apparently playing the role of a mistress, was shamelessly squeezing the breast of her partner. Then her hand slipped under her open dress, starting to quickly caress her exactly where Ciel thought she was. He reddened to the tips of his hair, unable to believe this was happening. Suddenly, the woman pulled away and jumped on the windowsill. She spread her legs wide and pulled her young lover's face after her, pressing her head to her crotch and rolling her eyes in bliss. Ciel chose not to look after that, although the dissolute sounds were still heard all too clearly.

Not so long ago, he had actually considered himself quite mature to see such things. Apparently, age meant nothing for he was certainly not ready for this.

What a wonderful first impression. The first thing he saw at the feast of Sebastian Michaelis was the women entering homosexual relations. This was enough for him to want to leave this place. This event wasn’t like the rest at all, and Ciel had no desire to be here. 

Most of the strange guests were dancing, tightly hugging the girls who for some reason wore black blindfolds. Some sat somewhere on the sofas and sipped unusually bright red wine from their glasses. A few had a prostitute sitting between their legs, clearly performing their primary function. 

No, this was too much. Now Ciel was more than confident that his master was... unusual? No, too simple of a word. Indecent? Also not really suitable. Strange? Not quite that. Ciel couldn’t find an appropriate adjective but he was sure that the person arranging such a frank and vulgar event was far from ordinary. Most likely, he had some very close ties with the criminal world since he allowed himself to organize something like this.

“Well, here it is,” Ciel said nervously to himself, noticing the long-suffering grand piano that he and Finney had dragged here not so long ago.

Trying hard not to interfere with the dancing couples, Ciel moved to the piano. He clearly felt someone's burning eyes on himself, but he no longer doubted the cunning of his master, so he stubbornly refused to turn around. After reaching the piano, Ciel sat down, immediately attracting the attention of many guests, including the conductor of the orchestra. With one movement, he ordered the musicians to stop, although it was only because Sebastian, who was sitting on the sofa, had commanded it. 

Normally, a demon would never succumb to a whim of some prostitute. And was it even worth mentioning how ridiculous it all looked as soon as Ciel began to play? While he had perfect skills, no one was going to appreciate them properly. Everyone saw just a girl who suddenly decided to show off her talent, moving away from her baser "position."

After a couple of minutes, the demons began to laugh openly, and not because of something genuinely amusing but at Ciel, who was accustomed to reverence and respect from his very birth. Ciel couldn’t help but agree with the saying that there was no more terrible laughter than the one aimed at you. 

“He is astonishingly resilient,” Mephistopheles was observing Ciel’s moral suffering with a tinge of respect in his eyes. “Just the second day, and you’ve already subjected him to this. For someone with such a proud personality like he has, this must be one of the hardest punishments.”

“I'm not looking for easy solutions,” Andras sipped more blood, looking with glee as Ciel’s face twisted in even greater disgust the longer he listened to the scorn of the crowd. “In fact, this medallion indeed has a very interesting story. Having learned these facts, the boy will be able to figure out a lot of facts. But this information will cost him.”

“But the more you terrorize him now, the stronger his hatred for you becomes. And only in a week...” Mephistopheles stopped because Raum suddenly appeared before them, bowing low in apology and clearly intending to say something important.

“I’m listening.” Ceasing his observations of Ciel, Sebastian turned his gaze to Raum, who now stood straight and stared at him.

“Your Grace, I can remain in this form only for a little bit now, and the conversation that I’ve overheard was really long. In the guise of a crow, I cannot give you as detailed information as I can now.”

“Oh, I forgot,” Sebastian rolled his eyes and leaned slightly to the side, allowing the servant to crawl over to him to whisper everything into his ear. “I was distracted too much.”

Placing his palm next to his lips, so that no one from the outside could understand what was going on, Raum spoke. Andras was now paying completely devoted attention to the story, not noticing that Ciel had already finished playing. Ignoring the offensive comments the demons were generously throwing around, the boy carefully closed the lid of the piano. Proudly raising his chin and turning away from strangers, he bravely withstood the test of shame. He wanted to take a break, though, so he was planning to go to his room. 

Already leaving the stage, he suddenly found himself pressed to one of the guests. Apparently, one of them didn’t like that one of the girls had forgotten “her place”, and he intended to teach her manners.

“You don’t seem to understand that your hands shouldn’t be on the keys but somewhere else,” the man uttered, smiling, squinting at him. Ciel turned pale with horror and began to fiercely struggle. Baatezu, who didn’t expect this, unwittingly released him from his embrace.

The orchestra started to play again, and it served as a kind of signal. Under the bemused glances of the rest, Ciel rushed to the exit, paying no attention to anyone. The demons were watching this show perplexedly. They could have participated fully but they entrusted the matter to Ballisargon, who was now breathing violently, clearly intending to join the pursuit. 

Sebastian noticed this fuss with the edge of his gaze. At first, he sighed heavily from the perspective of having to help his servant get out of the situation he had gotten himself into, but suddenly, the realization came.

The pursuer was Ballisargon. A demon from the Second Circle, one of the subordinates of Asmodeus, who specialized in lust and seduction of mankind into sinful pleasures. If nothing was done, then Ciel’s body and soul were in danger of a serious harm, and this couldn’t be allowed. 

“The boy belongs to me only!” Andras growled hatefully, abruptly darting off and ignoring Mephistopheles’ and Raum’s confused glances. The lips of the former stretched in an ironic smile.

Meanwhile, Ciel, intuitively feeling that the guest intended to follow him, lost all sense of propriety and started pushing the dancing couples out of his way. He had no idea how he managed to run even a few meters on such heels, considering that he, naturally, had never wore them before. But the desperate desire to hide was too great. The man pursuing him showed a relative gallantry as he tried to avoid causing even more confusion because of some human libertine and carefully bypassed every dancer. Using it as his advantage, Ciel braced himself against the wall hastily.

He removed one shoe, then the other. Throwing both of them aside, he ran at full speed to the second floor. Out of the corner of his eye, he noted with horror that his pursuer had already escaped from a swarm of dancing couples and continued to chase after him with passion. His expression was so full of some bestial rage that Ciel missed someone's broken glass covering the floor in his distraction. 

The shards dug into his bare feet, causing incredible pain, and Ciel fell to the ground. He was able to reach one of the corridors but there were no servants in the mansion right now, so everything was deserted. A silhouette appeared nearby, starting to slowly approach him. Of course, he could try to crawl away, but it would look so pitiful that he wasn’t going to do it. It wasn’t worth it.

The man finally approached him, and Ciel stubbornly looked him straight in the eye.

“What have you done to yourself to, baby...” Ballisargon sank to the floor next to Ciel, and the boy grimaced in disgust before turning away. Ballisargon put his hand on Ciel’s bare leg, which caused him to grit his teeth and shake it off, not wanting the nasty hands of a potential rapist to touch him. Revolting.

“Hush. You shouldn’t behave like this. Let me teach you how to be a good girl,” he uttered the last phrase with unconcealed rage, clearly not intending to waste any more time.

Next second, someone's strong kick threw him away at a pretty decent distance. Physically, Ballisargon wasn’t injured at all, but the fear was still present. Desiring to look at the one that could have allowed himself such audacity, he turned and froze. He didn’t expect to see the host of the celebration. 

Andras eyed Ciel's crippled legs with distaste and the boy stared at him as if he was seeing a ghost. He evidently didn’t expect to see him here, not now.

“M-my lord?” Ciel looked at Sebastian uncomprehendingly, and Ballisargon raised his eyebrows, just as surprised.

“What's going on here?” he rose from the ground, looking at Andras angrily. Why the devil did he suddenly tear him away from his own dinner?!

“Ballisargon, go downstairs, this doesn’t concern you. Forget everything that just happened here.” Sebastian pressed his hand to his chest. “Please accept my apologies for what happened but you are not allowed to touch her.”

“Are you telling me that you are standing up for some human whore?” Ballisargon laughed. He wasn’t used to keeping his mouth and emotions under control.

“No.” Very few people were really able to shut Andras up, and he was going to demonstrate this visually. He remembered very well that he was superior to Ballisargon in status. Smiling and giving his rival the most scornful look he was capable of, Andras said, “She is one of the purest.” Partly, it was true. “This girl isn’t for you. Such a sweet prize is prepared for the guests with a much higher rank.”

“Well, then I apologize for the inconvenience,” Ballisargon chuckled coldly and headed for the hall on the first floor. There, his most favorite part of such events was about to begin. Music had become quieter, and it could only mean one thing: the start of the orgy.

Sebastian and Ciel were left alone with each other. Sebastian continued to study Ciel’s cut feet with a slightly discontented expression. The boy himself grimaced from pain but tried to hold on. After the shame he had just experienced, Ciel no longer wanted to show weakness in front of Sebastian. Sebastian, in turn, understood that it was also time for him to go downstairs, but leaving Ciel here in this state was absolutely impossible. It created too high of a risk of his innocence being tarnished, and naturally, Andras’ possessiveness couldn’t allow it.

Sighing heavily, he half-closed his eyes, feeling exhausted, but at the same time watching as Ciel took the largest pieces out of his legs.

“I will bring you to your room, now that you are unable to walk,” Sebastian reached for him, intending to lift him.

“You shouldn't, my lord,” Ciel boldly looked him in the eye, pushing his hands away and reveling in how surprised he look. “My room is nearby, so I’m not going to burden you. Thank you for such uncharacteristic kindness but I will manage by myself.”

Ciel tore off two large pieces of fabric from his already torn skirt. He deftly bandaged his bleeding feet with them, biting his lower lip so that the pained sound didn’t come out. Small, barely noticeable pieces of glass were still biting his feet, but Ciel would deal with them later. Folding his hand into a fist, leaning against the wall with another one, Ciel began to rise, ignoring his master’s snort. As he finally stood up and took his first step, he abruptly paused and removed the false hair with disgust, indicating that he had executed the order and no longer intended to pretend to be someone he wasn’t.

“I completed the task,” Ciel half-turned to Sebastian, gazing at him intently, knowing his stare held bitterness and a barely hidden mockery. Ciel was really interested in whether Sebastian was pleased with what had just happened. “When I’m done getting myself into a normal state, I intend to hear your story about this medallion.”

Observing the boy, who was staggering slightly, Andras pursed his lips, feeling strange. The boy had indeed shown incredible steadfastness and courage.

“What a wonderful contrast,” he murmured aloud when Ciel disappeared behind the door. “I want his soul in particular and I will get it, whatever it costs me. ” Andras smirked and began to walk slowly in the opposite direction, toward the feast. “Well, Ciel Phantomhive. Today you have managed to cope with your tasks. However, you still have a whole week ahead. Will you be able to withstand it?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> #### Minor Characters
> 
> [](https://66.media.tumblr.com/a7274cc27d0a07be76a111aa0827b8e8/tumblr_inline_pnh8snMtsn1wufy17_1280.png)[](https://pp.userapi.com/c845120/v845120674/14a56a/eEz2kr2uXNY.jpg)[](https://pp.userapi.com/c850236/v850236367/e6adb/Xt6Cd90EUYw.jpg)
> 
> Thanks to the masterpiece [@modest-artist](https://modest-artist.tumblr.com/) for portraying these minor characters.  
> They were needed to helps the readers understand Baator’s hierarchy.  
> In the future plot they will play an active role.


	6. Waltzing Butler

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The feast continues. Sebastian, having underestimated the power of his feelings, is forced to fight for Ciel against the competitors. In turn, after learning that Sebastian really has a connection to his past and family, Ciel is eager to find out the truth in exchange for one wish.

“What do you want from me?” Displeased, Mephistopheles looked at Abbadon who sneered at him.

“Don’t flatter yourself. If a situation was ordinary, I would have never approached you without a good reason. There is a rumor about the suspicious disappearances of the heirs of the Silvestri family. According to information that I received, the last being that came into contact with them was you.”

“Ah, it seems Andras will not be too pleased to see his old acquaintance here,” without paying any attention to Abbadon, Mephistopheles observed how Alastor, the chief executor of the Eighth Circle, publicly dismembered one of the toys bought for the ball. He was the one who had handcuffed Andras back after his trial. “He wasn’t among the invited guests, I remember it well. But here he is. Quite a pleasant surprise.”

“Don’t you dare avoid my question, Mephistopheles!” Abbadon’s nature was similar to the very flame he had used for transportation to the festival. “I repeat, do you have any connection to that family?”

“Interesting. What a stir must be happening within the Eighth Circle if even one of the most apathetic demons is so tense,” Mephistopheles laughed, adding fuel to the fire. However, upon noticing Abbadon's menacing look, he sighed wearily.

“Well, if you are talking about my last contract with Alessio, you can relax. That boy might have had this surname but he did not possess the necessary blood.” Shrugging his shoulders, Mephistopheles leaned against the back of his sofa, stretching his hand and examining the rings on his fingers. “Why are you interested in these people?”

“The purpose of your contract with that young man was to cure his gravely ill sister who had been poisoned by her stepmother,” Abbadon grimaced, realizing how insignificant this information was in the context of Baator’s problems. However, Baal himself had assigned this case to him since it had a suspiciously dirty trademark.

“I’m glad that I won’t have to educate you on this matter.”

“Chiara Silvestri was abducted. This is the seventeenth case of this kind, although mortals don’t raise the alarm because they fail to see the patterns in these disappearances. And even if they are mere people, ignoring this problem is the highest degree of nonchalance we can’t afford.”

“I advise you to refrain from discussing this issue further if Andras shouldn’t know about it,” Mephistopheles shot Abbadon an indifferent look, lighting a cigar. “He's heading here.”

Sebastian looked more than satisfied. This was noticeable in his smile, in the way he moved smoothly, without losing his inherent masculinity and aggressiveness. His mood was so upbeat, as if he had just swallowed someone’s soul.

Glancing around the ballroom, he noticed two of his acquaintances that were sitting away from everyone else.

“If you are not having fun at my party, I may very well think that I failed to prepare it properly,” Sebastian approached and nodded at the demons standing behind them, his arms crossed expectantly.

“I see your mood has improved greatly,” Mephistopheles glanced at Sebastian sarcastically. “This is the first time when our dialogue began without the usual insults.”

“I can provide them for you if you wish,” Sebastian snorted. “But I don’t want to waste my time on this now, my mood is too good for that.”

“Perhaps I will follow your advice,” Abbadon laughed and stood up to head to one of the virginal girls who was currently dancing on a pole. “I have no doubt that you have prepared a sweeter treat for me than for the others,” he lifted his chin smugly and grinned, having already noticed one of the victims with his bright green eyes.

“Hmm, I’m probably going to play poker where I will hit the jackpot in the form of several souls. My appetite is somewhat larger, so one girl won’t be enough for me.” Mephistopheles also left Sebastian’s company, to the relief of the latter. He still had a few unfinished tasks to do.

“The boy definitely needs to be locked up,” Sebastian murmured to himself. Medications wouldn’t hurt in this case as well — otherwise, Ciel would collapse before Sebastian had time to torment him sufficiently.

Walking on such injured legs was painful but Ciel steadfastly moved toward his small room, hoping to finally have at least some moral rest and spend some time alone. Simultaneously, he also hoped to put himself in order because not only his appearance but also his physical condition had to be improved. 

Here was the long-awaited door. When he opened it, he would find himself in a modest room that he already loved. The only place where Ciel could avoid that ubiquitous burning look. The place where he could be alone at least for a while.

Honestly, Ciel was confused at his own feelings. How could he fall in love with some small closet in just a couple of days? For many years, he had slept on luxurious beds, ate only the most delicious and wholesome food, and wore clothes created by elite designers. Even after the loss of the mansion, living on his aunt’s money, Ciel couldn’t allow himself to fall to the level of an ordinary bourgeois. He preserved many of his old habits and preferences, although at this moment, he didn’t succeed in maintaining the latter.

The truth was, he was really surprised at how quickly a person could get used to something. Ciel didn’t have even one minute for rest these days except for a rare opportunity to sleep. Having already realized how picky his master was, he knew perfectly well that everything should shine, and his pride, dignity, and unwillingness to owe something to someone didn’t allow him to perform his work poorly. 

He also had to satisfy his basic human needs in the form of cooking, which required additional time and strength. Unfortunately, Ciel had managed to eat properly and take a shower only on the second day, right before the start of his transformation into a girl with this new outfit. Sebastian did not skimp on food for the servants so they would have as much energy to carry out his insidious plans as possible, despite the fact that he himself did not eat much. Or maybe he didn’t eat at all, but Ciel couldn’t imagine how this was possible. Due to the abundance of work, he hardly managed to deal with his new schedule and simply had no time to cook for himself.

Immediately upon returning to his little room, Ciel plopped down on the bed. Now, he didn’t even pay attention to his crippled legs because in the supine position, the pain was practically non-existent. He felt good. Finally, he could enjoy the long-awaited relaxation. 

The calm did not last long, though, for literally after just ten minutes, the door opened wide. Sebastian appeared in the doorway and threw some heavy box into Ciel’s arms unceremoniously. Great. Because of this careless action, Ciel would surely have bruises on his wrist. Not that Sebastian cared, obviously. 

“Clean up everything that you soiled here, your feet are staining my precious floor. Also, you will have to wipe the carpets clean in the corridor because I don’t want the maid to faint at the sight of those spots.” Sebastian leaned against the doorjamb, waiting for Ciel to turn around and pay attention to the amusing little thing in his hands.

“Are you locking me?” Ciel couldn’t hide his annoyance, looking at the small golden key on the long chain that Sebastian was twirling in his hand. “My lord, what about your promise?”

“Put yourself in order first. I don’t want to waste my time on you, especially when you look so pathetic,” Andras sharply closed the door behind him, and a resulting gust of wind extinguished several candles on the candelabrum.

Left in the twilight, once again alone with himself, Ciel pursed his lips bitterly. For some reason, it was at this moment, after such an offensive gesture that he felt even more abandoned. He had never given a damn about it — after all, Ciel had been independent for a long time, but now his loneliness suddenly felt stifling.

Indeed, after his house had been burned down, practically no one was interested in him but his aunt. Everyone seemed to ignore his disappearance while Angelina worked so hard that she had too little free time for her nephew. Considering the situation, Ciel didn’t shut himself out from everyone only because of his excessive pride.

He had been spoiled until the age of fifteen, and when he was left alone, he had to learn how to be independent. So Ciel learned to do everything by himself. He brewed tea, cooked food, cut the roses, cleaned, and started to make sense out of different medications. Of all the universal wisdoms, the only things he’d failed to do was to cook pancakes and fight off the mosquitoes.

Turning to a nearby medicine box that was so generously left by Sebastian, Ciel laid it on his lap. Somewhere outside the room, a strange whistle was heard. Ciel grimaced and visibly tensed at this sound, although it was so fleeting that a few moments later, it already flew out of his head. Ciel hurried back to the medication.

“Only the basic drugs inside,” he murmured. “Well, it’s better than nothing.”

Touching his chin with his index finger, Andras frowned. It was necessary to think over a further plan of actions because he had already learned how unpredictable this obstinate boy could be. Therefore, he had to take somewhat different measures. Although not only the nature of Ciel created so many complications. Hiding a wounded mortal was very difficult with such a feast happening downstairs. When some guest finally finished his meal, feeling the scent of the new one, they would want to locate it. Moreover, Ciel was badly crippled now, the smell of his blood became even more noticeable — Sebastian sensed it when he had just returned to the hall. It seemed that the demons were drawn in this direction, too. They sensed that there was something very appetizing there, and not only blood. In the end, even thirty-six defiled beauties would not be able to drown out this delicate aroma of the soul that Sebastian did not want to share with anyone. 

In addition to those guests who had arrived, there was another problem. One particular baatezu who hadn’t appeared still and who was used to being late. He was quite famous for his appetite and Ciel could easily fall under his onslaught. Usually, he arrived at exactly twelve o'clock, and now it was already half past midnight. While doubtful, Andras didn’t exclude the possibility of him being simply late again. 

With a snap of his fingers, he called Raum.

“I will need you in your human form at the very end of the evening, so turn into the crow again for now. It would be much more convenient for a new task I have for you.”

Changing shapes, Raum sat on Andras' shoulder, intending to listen to further instructions. Sebastian sharply ran his claws against the door leading to Ciel’s small room. It was at this moment that Ciel was dissolving a small amount of ammonia in a basin of water. He looked up at the door nervously. The sharp and disgustingly high sound made him feel uneasy.

“You have to watch him,” Andras nodded toward the room. “And let me know if anyone dares to encroach upon him.”

Raum obediently croaked and, removing himself off his shoulder, landed on the windowsill next to Ciel's room. With a nod of satisfaction, Andras hastened to return to the festive hall, where the others were probably waiting for him.

Upon reaching the guests, Sebastian was completely unsurprised at what he saw. Everyone seemed to be in their element — now, there was not a single bored demon, and even Mephistopheles was absorbed in the game of poker. He had already beaten some, including the inexperienced but sharp-tongued Isacaron. The latter was clearly upset because he was infatuated with his chosen concubine and didn’t want to part with her like that. Mephistopheles, in turn, could only further subdue this impudent young Baatezu with all his strength as he hadn’t liked him since the first minute of his appearance.

Now, he was playing against Abbadon, and Andras didn’t expect this at all. Mephistopheles wasn’t really succeeding, it seemed. The bets were flying and he didn’t take cards from the central deck, which meant that either he had too good of a combination or he intentionally cheated, pretending that everything was fine. Suddenly, Abbadon decided to reveal his cards. Not only the souls of the libertines from the ball were at stake but also the potential and currently unknown ones, which the loser was obliged to later give to the winner.

“Let’s see it,” Abbadon threw his combination face down, ending the game, anxiously waiting for his opponent to reveal his cards as well.

“Oh, [Full House](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/List_of_poker_hands#Full_house)! Not bad,” Mephistopheles examined the cards with a wistful smile. “However, mine is still stronger.”

He revealed the [Four of a kind](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/List_of_poker_hands#Four_of_a_kind), consisting of four aces and one last king that Abbadon lacked for a stronger combination. Abbadon furiously crashed his fist into the table.

“You owe me three hundred souls!” Mephistopheles laughed. “Well, well, it seems to me that you know how to keep your emotions under control. And if you recall the recent rules… three hundred contracts need to be concluded now. This is no joke!”

“I will repay the debt, have no doubt about that,” Abbadon growled. 

Despite his experience, Abbadon couldn’t beat Mephistopheles. This was not surprising, given his specialization. Mephistopheles was from Phleghetos, the Sixth Circle focused on lying and cheating, which was highly reproached in most places of Baator.

Sebastian looked at Mephistopheles in annoyance, feeling that he wanted to put him in his place. He understood with what disgust Abbadon treated the contracts like no one else. Maybe he was a little less angry about it but the feeling was not weak at all.

However, Sebastian was not as messy in choosing his food to use some number of human souls as a bet. Moreover, they would surely turn out to be second-rate and almost tasteless. No, if he was playing, his conditions would be different, albeit with a similarly strong taste of victory.

Noticing Mephistopheles' condescending look, Sebastian grinned. Was he being underestimated? Under the interested looks of the crowd, he crouched right on the vacant seat in front of his opponent. Something interesting was bound to happen. The host of the celebration himself was going to act out against an invincible player!

“I will have slightly different conditions,” Sebastian calmly laid his hands on the table.

“And what would they be?” Intricately shuffling the used deck of cards and doing tricks with it, Mephistopheles squinted.

“If I win, then Abbadon’s debt will be lifted. I have no desire to return to Baator while he’s having fun somewhere on Earth. Without him, things are depressing,” Sebastian sighed dejectedly. Mephistopheles’ eyes widened in surprise and Abbadon turned around, stunned.

“How noble,” Mephistopheles chuckled coldly. “However, Andras, you’re taking a big risk. You must understand that in case of my win, you will be the one who has to work for all these souls,” Mephistopheles spoke the last word in syllables, with undisguised pleasure and mockery. “And all for nothing, after such a long punishment. Are you sure you still want to play against me?”

“I am,” Sebastian answered, jerking his chin up. After that, a fresh deck of cards materialized on the table. “Now, we need a dealer who will distribute them.”

“Well, let it be Abbadon,” Mephistopheles looked at the tense demon who stood behind Sebastian with mischief. “Of course, your victory is in his best interests, but if he tries to cheat, I will notice.”

“Don’t have such a low opinion of me,” Abbadon grinned, unpacking a fresh deck of cards and carefully shuffling them. “And besides, you are the one to talk.” Such a rogue as Mephistopheles could never play fair.

Five cards were given to each player. Immediately after Abbadon did what was required, he put the remaining cards in the center of the table between the participants. Then he stepped away so as not to interfere anymore. 

Sebastian took his five cards, fanning them. The combination was not the most successful one but it wasn’t hopeless either. It was just the beginning of the game, so it was quite possible to recoup. He was holding queens of diamond and clubs and three additional cards. He had no idea what cards Mephistopheles had, his face was impenetrable, like Sebastian’s own. Both rivals masterfully knew how to avoid betraying their emotions, and if one had tempered his skills in many bloody feuds and battles, the other one was plain interested in gambling.

“I bet fifteen souls,” Sebastian boldly put two pieces of white and red forward. These items were far from those used in human poker for they depicted Baator's standard letters.

“So soon?” Mephistopheles looked at his ward in surprise. When it came to gambling, he was always focused and serious. “Well, as you wish, then. Call,” he announced, implying an equal bet. Things were moving fast since usually, the game started with a bet of five or so souls. It was not worth losing one’s head when playing, especially now.

However, this notion didn’t stop them. Taking a new card, they raised the rates again and again. The combinations were changing constantly, almost at a frantic speed, the chips flew, and the number of souls became sky-high. This spectacle attracted a lot of attention, especially since Mephistopheles finally had an interesting opponent. In the end, when Andras got the desired combo, he was about to open the cards when Mephistopheles beat him to it. 

“Let’s reveal ourselves,” Mephistopheles whispered ominously, carefully watching the expression on Andras' face.

With all his might, Sebastian restrained himself and tried to control his facial features. Mephistopheles was about to open the cards first, which indicated a very strong combination. 

The first pair appeared, the kings of cross and hearts. Sebastian was embarrassed. He himself was holding the combination of the same strength. Then the second pair, aces of spades and hearts. Was the fate toying with him? The second coincidence — now, everything depended on the fifth card. Since the two pairs were the same, the last card was to decide the outcome of the game. Andras had a queen on his hands, and if Mephistopheles had a joker…

“And a knave,” Mephistopheles finally said, revealing the last card before looking expectantly at Sebastian.

Sebastian spent a few moments absolutely without movement and then he laughed viciously, gleefully demonstrating his combination.

“You’ll have to pay up with two hundred and fifty souls on top. You love to conclude contracts, so this shouldn’t be a problem,” Sebastian smirked mockingly and got up from the table, tiredly putting his hand into his hair. Mephistopheles grinned, giving Sebastian a piercing look. He took his loss calmly.

The doors opened suddenly and an unceremoniously late guest crossed the threshold and strode toward the main hall proudly. His stately figure stood out too much from the rest, and his long white hair reflected the light of the candles. He was arrogant, narcissistic, and extremely prideful. This created a memorable combination with his appearance because Ananel, as he was called, was an albino, which was very rare among the baatezu. His red gaze met almost the same pair of eyes, only with a darker shade.

Sebastian raised his eyebrow. He expected Agaliarept, the commander of Baathor’s army from Nessus, the Ninth Circle. The period of his stay on Earth would end a little earlier, and several issues had to be discussed. But for some reason, his younger brother came in his stead.

“What a surprise, Ananel,” Andras deigned to squeeze out a polite smile. “Honestly, though, I was expecting to see Agaliarept here.”

“My brother can’t be present today, he had some things to do,” Ananel said arrogantly, lifting his chin.

“Like what?” squinting suspiciously, Sebastian crossed his arms across his chest.

“This concerns the Baathaise of Nessus. He found matters that are a little more important than your feast. However, I will convey any information that you need to share to him.”

The situation between Sebastian and Ananel was heated, this was felt by many. Although there were those who, as always, didn’t care at all. Mephistopheles was freely shuffling cards that constantly slipped out of the deck. He was stocking up the trumps before starting a new round.

“Well, I understand. It can happen to anyone,” Sebastian answered indulgently.

Ananel was rather young. He evaluated the strength of the demons exclusively based on the seniority of the Circle they inhabited, so in his opinion, his own held the first position. Someday, he would understand that this was far from the truth. Andras knew it all too well. It was unfortunate that due to restrictions imposed by the punishment, he couldn’t show his skills to put Ananel in his place. And according to all customs, it wasn’t proper to break the rules of hospitality. After all, Ananel was primarily a guest, even if he had a sharp tongue.

“Then I suggest that both of us go to a place more appropriate for conversation. Why confuse the outsiders?” Sebastian furtively glanced around the room before moving to the chairs by the fireplace.

Ananel followed him, now openly glancing around. He was clearly looking for someone, but his goal never appeared before his eyes and this clearly unnerved him: Ananel seemed to want to rush somewhere. Watching him intently, Sebastian decided to extract some information from him.

Having reached the comfortable chairs, Sebastian sank into one of them, hospitably inviting Ananel to follow his example. His guest pursed his lips in displeasure but still sat down. Sebastian deigned to start the conversation first.

“I believe that your brother had a good reason not to come here today,” he gently ran his hand over the arm of the chair, turning to his interlocutor.

“A very good reason, you can rest assured, Great Marquis.” Suddenly, Ananel began to behave a little more decently. “I am ready to listen to you and I guarantee that all information will remain between us and Agaliarept only.”

Sebastian could not trust Ananel, although most of the Baatezu didn’t have a habit to lie like this. He still couldn’t disclose some of the nuances, so he decided to discuss only the most important things. 

When it was two in the morning, their conversation turned into a different direction. They started talking about their own hobbies, and when Ananel discussed his own, which had an exceptionally bloody character, Sebastian sighed, realizing that he was envious.

At the moment, the things that really appealed to him could not occupy his free time. How could everyday training that helped to preserve his military skills compare to a real battle? During training, he couldn’t feel the euphoria spreading through his body as it happened when he was in the center of the battlefield, as he cut off one head after another one, sprinkling his sword with blood and porridge made from someone’s insides. Ruthlessly shredding flesh, breaking bones, splashing out all his rage and feeling truly free. How long it had been… Now, Sebastian could only laugh at human weaknesses or try to make a strong person weak by destroying their confidence. Which was what he was currently doing now.

“Thank you for the interesting conversation, Andras, but I’ll dare to take advantage of your hospitality for a little longer and have a meal,” Ananel smiled and turned around.

There was something strange in that smile, something false. Sebastian felt this just by looking at his retreating figure. Soon, Ananel disappeared from view completely, merging with the crowd. Andras wearily leaned back in his chair. The thirst was becoming unbearable, he could feel it even stronger now. Everyone, not counting those who lost to Mephistopheles, had already quenched it, some even doing it several times over, but he himself could not afford this.

The only reason why he held on for so long was the huge supply of souls he had absorbed back in the 14th century. Their scale was enormous, and Sebastian was ready to swear that for the first few decades, he did not feel any difference. Later, his hunger began to slowly but surely wake up, and by the end of the 18th century, this sensation became unbearable. And so it continued to this day. The new rules inconvenienced him greatly. One simple soul would not be enough, but for the sake of what he desired, he would have to allow fastening the collar around his neck.

Ananel did not intend to proceed with the feast that Andras had prepared for him. He had a task that was much more significant than the absorption of the next soul. He had to find him and he couldn’t give up this responsibility to anyone else, even if, as it was known, Grell Sutcliffe had already managed to get close to the boy. 

Returning to the lobby, he began to sniff the air. Such a strange, tart smell was felt in it, giving off a subdued scent of copper. It led to the second floor and then to one of the corridors, where it was especially sharp. Ananel smiled, pleased, when he reached its "starting point".

Shards of glass were visible on the dark green carpet. In those places, the floor was slightly darker, as if someone had spilled a drink and then threw a glass away before crushing it thoroughly. But the truth was different, and Ananel knew what it hid. He couldn’t confuse this aroma with anything else — it was coming from exact same person he needed.

Ananel crouched, taking one of the particularly large fragments stained with blood into his hand. He couldn’t stop himself from licking it.

As soon as he felt this taste, his pupils contracted. His fingers shook, letting go of the glass, and he himself began to rise from the floor. His lips stretched in a carnivorous smile, bright flame burning wildly in his eyes, and his sense of smell sharpened to an impossible extent. In a blink, Ananel jumped to his feet and headed for the desired goal. He didn’t even notice that a black bird was sitting on one of the candelabra, flying away right after it sensed the foreign presence.

The raven flew at a great speed, slashing the air with its wings. He had to warn Andras of the impending danger! Who knew that this precaution would be justified, and that the enemy wouldn’t be harmless. Ananel was of the same blood as Lucifer himself, so this was not a joke. Raum wouldn’t have been able to get away unscathed if he had been noticed. Andras’ punishments had always been especially cruel, and given that the demons could not die from wounds, apart from severe ones, one could only guess how painful his future fate might be.

Raum flew into the hall, looking for Sebastian desperately. Noticing him sitting by the fireplace, he rushed to him with double speed. As soon as he landed on Sebastian’s shoulder, his Master shuddered and turned sharply in his direction. Then he cursed. 

The boy was in trouble for the second time.

Without wasting his time on questions, Sebastian rushed to Ciel, ignoring everyone’s surprised looks.

He was not going to share him with anyone!

He directed the first blow at the head of his enemy. Ananel, who was already reaching for the door handle, was thrown back to one of the statues. The abruptness of the attack had its effect — Ananel didn’t quite expect to see Andras here. He thought he was able to escape from his field of vision.

Narrowing his eyes, Sebastian took off his black gloves, realizing that otherwise, he would dirty them. Then he effectively adjusted his black frock coat. Ananel rose from the floor.

“Is this boy really that important to you?” he arched a perplexed eyebrow. “Andras, have you really managed to become attached to a human during all this time of your imprisonment here? Stop it already and don’t delay me.”

“Of course,” Sebastian smiled ironically, jerking his shoulders in a deliberately awkward manner. “I'm not going to lose such a great treat, and only he can quench my appetite. Don’t even think that you’ll be able to get to him this easily. By the way,” Sebastian’s look became theatrically sad, “this door cannot be opened like this. Even magic and power won’t help.”

In support of his words, Sebastian took out a small golden key from his pocket, and then, smiling mischievously, put it in his mouth and swallowed it.

“True, one of my servants has another one, but I don’t even know where she is right now.” He spread his arms to the sides. Ananel grunted coldly and straightened. “I am sure that it is you who is involved in the absence of Agaliarept. After all, getting invited to my feast isn’t easy. What could you possibly distract him with? He is a tough nut to crack.” 

“I have more important things to do than talk to you,” Ananel jerked forward, pressing Andras against the wall.

Sebastian smiled in excitement. Now he would be finally able to fight with someone who could make him apply at least some efforts. Although treating the situation so dismissively wasn’t right either. Their positions as demons differed, and while Ananel’s strength was not shackled by anything, Andras could only rely on physical methods and skills. He couldn’t do any tricks right now, and floating in the air was impossible as well. However, he wasn’t going to lose because of this.

Sebastian pushed the opponent away from him, watching him fly off to the opposite wall but receiving no damage. The same couldn’t be said about the wall, though. 

Cracks crossed the stone surface, and it was not difficult to guess that Ciel was awake for a long time now and that he had no idea what was happening. There was an incomprehensible roar behind the door — clearly, he was the only sane person in this estate. 

When the key turned from the other side and the door opened, everyone was dumbfounded.

Not only did Sebastian have no idea where Ciel could have gotten the spare key from, but he was also caught in such a compromising situation! 

Ananel quickly lost his control. He turned to confused Ciel suddenly, reaching to grab him, but Sebastian pressed him to the door jamb with his own body, tightly clenching his throat and not letting him go. Ciel couldn’t say anything intelligible, he just took a few steps from the battlefield and froze.

“Raum!” Sharply turning his head in the direction of his raven, who was now sitting on someone's stone head, Sebastian continued to hold the enemy. “Distract him, right now!”

Raum did not need to hear the instructions twice. Right in front of Ciel's eyes, he jumped off the statue in a human form and ran to him. Smiling delicately at Ciel, whose eyes were about to bulge out, he closed the door behind him, straightened up and… froze, staring somewhere in front of him and pretending to be a statue, believing that Ciel would not pay attention to him that way.

“Who are you?” Ciel backed away nervously, almost colliding with a chest of drawers and staring as if he’d seen a ghost.

“I am a servant of the Great Marquis,” said Raum, driving Ciel into even greater bewilderment. “Oh, I completely forgot…” Smiling awkwardly, he took a scarf and a flask with some kind of liquid from his pocket. “You should sleep, Ciel. All that you’ve seen is just a dream.”

Having spilled a little chloroform on the fabric, Raum took advantage of Ciel's shocked state and quickly pressed it to his face. Ciel immediately closed his eyes weakly and his legs buckled. He would have fallen to the floor but Raum caught him quickly before carefully putting him onto the bed. He didn’t feel much disgust for this person because they were in very similar positions. The ball would end soon, Raum had very little energy left, and certain signs revealing the nature of the guests had to be removed.

Shrinking in size once again and growing feathers, Raum plunged the room into darkness.

“Have you really forgotten about what manners mean?” Ananel rolled his eyes ironically, not paying even the slightest attention to Andras’ palm, which was wrapped around his throat. “There is not enough space here, so I suggest moving somewhere onto the street and fighting there properly.”

“I'm not going to apologize for my rudeness. You encroached on my property. ”Sebastian made several steps back, brushing off the edges of his silk shirt. “Are you hinting that you’d like us to have a duel?”

“Exactly,” Ananel straightened smugly and crossed his arms across his chest. “The winner will receive the soul and body of Ciel Phantomhive, and the loser will no longer dare to approach him.”

Andras glanced at the nearby watch briefly. It was already half past three, there was very little time left, meaning he had to hurry up.

“First, I would like to discuss the conditions. Since I am the one offended in this situation, the right to choose the weapons is mine.”

“As you wish,” Ananel said coldly, looking haughtily at Sebastian.

“We will duel on swords. Since your subordinates are not at my reception, I will choose an impartial demon for both of us,” Sebastian grimaced at twinge of dislike, but then resolutely called, “Mephistopheles! ”

He appeared right there, materializing near a damaged wall and leaning back against it tiredly. Obviously, he was unhappy that he was once again so brazenly distracted, but he couldn’t not come. These were the rules. He would have to waste his precious time again. 

With a doomed sigh, Mephistopheles pressed his fingers to his closed eyelids before looking at the demons, displeased.

“And what is required of me this time?”

“We need a second,” Sebastian was tapping his foot nervously. The time went on and he knew Mephistopheles wouldn’t agree to the idea of duel for anything.

“What kind of childishness is that?” he rolled his eyes. “Did you decide to recall the old days?”

“Not really, rather, I want defend my property,” Sebastian grinned, sending a look in the direction of Ciel’s room. Mephistopheles snorted sarcastically.

“Did you seriously decide to arrange a duel because of a human?” He looked at them as if they were demented before focusing on Sebastian. “To be honest, Andras, I did not expect this from you.”

“You know very well how I feel about all this,” Sebastian kicked the floor in annoyance. “We don't have much time.”

“As you wish.”

The most remote part of the park was chosen as the battlefield. The noise from here would not reach the guests, and so they wouldn’t bother them again. The place where the battle was supposed to happen was particularly dark. Ash trees were growing at a great distance from each other, but at the same time, they were placed in a chaotic order that managed to hide the selected area from the prying eyes. There were practically no shrubs in this part of the territory, although about a dozen sculptures were standing in the shadow of some trees and were capable of confusing a passerby. In such a gloomy atmosphere, they could easily be confused with formidable warriors holding the swords. The clouds in the sky completely obscured the moon, so its silver light could not illuminate the earth. 

Demons could see well in the dark — moreover, some of them deliberately avoided the light. Such demons lived mainly within the Ninth Circle of Baator since it was the most remote and deepest place. They were called "light haters" or "Lucifugus." Ananel belonged to them, and although he could stay in the daylight sometimes, this created a lot of problems for him. Therefore, he appeared at the ball when a deep night was already reigning in the yard.

The opponents had already discussed all conditions. Mephistopheles, who tried to take the matter at least a little bit more seriously, assured the demons that they could stop fighting after the first wound — why give up a life for a mortal? It sounded very reasonable but the truth was, this whole circus made him secretly laugh.

“Since you insulted the one whose main strength is now restrained by the spell, you have no right to use magic,” Mephistopheles proclaimed, sitting on one of the branches of a tree. Then he turned to Ananel. “I will announce the beginning of the duel with a click of my fingers. The wind shall drown out your voices.”

Ananel was silent while Sebastian prepared the blades for the battle. After some time, he threw one of the swords to Ananel with the hilt aimed forward. Having taken a fighting position, the rivals faced each other.

Mephistopheles snapped his fingers.

This fight was different from a human duel. Unlike people, demons were physically capable of inflicting much more damage, which was why they didn’t see any point in restraining themselves. Ananel pushed off the ground, bouncing three meters into the air, so the height of the trees could not hide the silhouette that soared briefly in the air. He swung the blade, wanting to strike from above, but Sebastian repulsed his attack, bouncing toward him, not allowing the blade to cut him. Afterward, Andras sank to the ground again. With lightning speed, he used one ash tree after another to push himself up, moving to the enemy to deliver the first blow. Ananel had to try hard to avoid such an attack. He stood on his toes, directing his entire power there to support his weight.

Sebastian was getting ready to attack again but Ananel straightened abruptly, throwing his sword to his other hand and preventing the attack. None of them could allow themselves to be hurt since it would be considered a defeat. He was obliged to win in this duel, otherwise, he would fail the task!

Ananel grinned viciously and kicked the ground. The soil began to crack, with a deep cleft forming in its middle. Sebastian almost fell into it, thus almost opening himself to the attack, but when Ananel intended to jump after him and injure him, he caught the edge of cliff, using is as a source of support. With its help, Sebastian burst to the surface, jumping onto a branch of one of the trees.

Mephistopheles glanced at Sebastian. He felt calm — these tricks couldn’t possibly surprise him. It could be worse. However, the duel wasn’t moving forward, which was bad. Now there were fifteen minutes left — after that, they were required to immediately return to the mansion, to see off the guests. No one could be left without attention. 

Clutching his sword tightly in his hand and grinning predatorily, Sebastian jumped from a tree, flying directly at the enemy. He was aiming at his chest, and his speed was extraordinarily high.

‘He won’t have time to hide,’ Sebastian thought enthusiastically, already preparing to deliver the final blow. But suddenly, black wings emerged from Ananel’s back. With a malicious grin provoked by Andras’ confusion, Ananel flew high into the air, blocking the moon that had recently emerged from the embrace of the clouds with his dark silhouette. Sebastian swore. Because of his indifference toward the situation, Mephistopheles had failed to take into account all the intricacies. Sebastian missed them, too, and now the enemy was bluffing openly.

Ananel, belonging to the light-fearing demons, began to spread the darkness around himself. The night sky that served as a source of light due to the stars that weren’t hidden behind the clouds faded slowly. The haze around Ananel started to thicken more and more before turning into a black fog. Mephistopheles tensed but decided not to do anything — after all, Ananel and Sebastian weren’t fighting to death.

When the darkness completely enveloped the territory of the battle, with a sinking heart, Sebastian realized that now he would have to rely only on his hearing. To be honest, his situation was not just unfortunate, it was downright hopeless. He couldn’t fly, he was unable to use magic, although the latter did not work out very well for him anyway, and now his enemy decided to take away his sight as well. Ananel flew silently, the feathers of his black-pearl wings were soft and flexible. Even if they made a whistling sound when dissecting the air, now, they were drowned out by the wind. But although Sebastian was at the great risk of losing, Ananel missed one small detail.

The opponents had identical swords. Both belonged to Sebastian and each had a gold chain. The chain was wound around the handle, and with any movement, the links hit each other, emitting a metallic sound.

Sebastian smiled. He wasn’t going to lose like this, despite being in such a terrible position.

A few seconds passed. Everything seemed calm, no rustle coming from the darkness. A couple of meters from him, though, a quiet whistle could be heard, similar to how a sword slashing the air would sound. Ananel couldn’t see him either, but thanks to his ability to fly, he was in a better position. Sebastian was able to catch this subtle ringing of the chain, and it helped him to avoid the blows coming from different angles for about two minutes. Experience was everything, any other demon in this state would have already fallen wounded. Sebastian wouldn’t agree to a draw, so he had to use one of his most powerful weapons, his mind.

Scrolling through the memories of the blows that Ananel had been delivering from above, Sebastian realized that at a certain second, he crossed one and the same point. All he had to do now was to calculate the right time and not miss his mark! Then he would be able to come out of this battle as a winner.

A minute passed. The enemy swung his sword again and Sebastian evaded it. He repeated the same motion after a blow from a different angle, and that was it. Time for a countdown.

 _Three._ He made a couple of steps back, waiting.

 _Two._ He swung the sword, imagining a visual point that he had to target. In this black darkness, without any guidelines, aiming was very difficult.

 _One._ Sebastian released the sword, using it as a spear instead. To hell with conditions and with the duel code, Ananel himself had violated a lot of rules when he began to take advantage of abilities that were currently closed to Sebastian.

And then, a blissful evil hiss was heard. Andras hadn’t missed. The next second, he heard how something fell to the ground, and then the darkness that surrounded the whole territory began to dissipate. After a minute, everything went back to how it had been before.

Mephistopheles jumped from a tree branch, landing noisily on the ground.

“Would you look at that,” he drawled, slowly moving toward Ananel. The latter immediately rose from the ground, and when Andras saw where Ananel was wounded, he couldn’t help but laugh. The sword had pierced his wing, making its owner fall to the ground. He failed to tolerate even such a light wound. In the past, Andras could fly with two damaged wings pierced by enemy arrows. What a bloodthirsty time it had been.

“You lost, even your cheating didn’t help you,” Mephistopheles's look expressed his open mockery.

“I'll summon the court!” Ananel angrily pulled the sword out from his wing. “I won't give up like this.”

“I wonder on what grounds you are going to do that,”another imperious voice forced them all to turn around and look at its owner.

Two figures were approaching the battlefield. One very small, a bird. Andras immediately noticed him, so he wasn’t surprised when Raum landed on his shoulder. Obviously, he’d lost all his energy. The second person was Alastor, and Sebastian’s mood soured. They didn’t like each other. Alastor couldn’t forgive his insults during the trial, the ones that got Sebastian another 43 years of punishment, and Sebastian himself kept the grudge for those damned handcuffs. However, right now, Alastor’s presence was welcome.

“What do you mean?” Ananel arrogantly lifted his chin, turning to face Alastor. The overweight figure might have looked a little frightening but he wasn’t aggressive at the moment.

“Everyone is equal before the law. And if you are going to appear in DC, you will by no means be a victim but a defendant.”Alastor was talking about“ Devil's Court”, and suddenly, the handcuffs that looked so painfully familiar to Sebastian emerged from his pocket, only this time, they were put on Ananel. “Baalberite will decide what sentence you will receive. You used magic, thereby increasing the difference in strength between you and the offended party. This is unforgivable during a duel. Andras,” Alastor looked at him, smiling mysteriously. “Thank you for the magnificent feast, I’m glad that your sentence ends soon.” 

“I’m happy that it pleased you.” Sebastian smiled a little awkwardly. He didn’t expect to hear such words from the one who he had attacked back in Baator at the last moment. He ignored Ananel, whose hands were now handcuffed, with Alastor holding him by the chain.

“See you later, then,” Sebastian walked a couple of steps forward and shook the hand of his old acquaintance.

“See you in Hell.”

Alastor turned in the opposite direction, leading Ananel away from the manor. With each step, their silhouettes became more and more transparent, until they finally dissolved in the air.

Now, it was time to see everyone off.

Ciel woke up early in the morning, not on his own once again but this time, it was also not the fault of the maid. Some strange harsh sound had woken him up, and when Ciel rubbed his eyes and looked at the clock next to him, he saw that it was now twenty minutes to five. 

This morning could be called as disgusting as the previous one. The reason for his disturbed sleep was thunder. When a flash of lighting flickered outside the window, Ciel cringed. He was afraid of it from the age of four, but because of his extreme fatigue, he couldn’t feel fear fully now.

Throwing the blanket aside, Ciel was surprised to find that he had been sleeping in the uniform of a butler. He had no idea what had happened yesterday. Stepping on the floor, he winced from the sharp pain and then noticed that his legs were bandaged. This served as a kind of final wake-up call, and slowly, Ciel began to recreate the images of yesterday. His memories stopped at a woman’s dress, a broken glass lying on the floor, and an intrusive guest. And Sebastian, who behaved very strangely.

But this was not all, obviously. Ciel couldn’t remember when he had managed to change clothes and bandage his legs. 

A small golden key that rested on the bedside table helped him find the answer to this question. It was then that he remembered how he walked to his room, pulled out the fragments of glass from his feet and changed his clothes. There was clearly something else, though, three strange silhouettes that came to his head, but it was difficult to remember who they were.

Ciel did not have time to deal with this, and since he had awakened earlier, he had to immediately do his duties and then demand an explanation from Sebastian. Yesterday, he seemed too busy with the feast, which Ciel also preferred to remove from his memory, so he hadn’t told him anything.

Walking was bearable, so after doing all morning rituals, Ciel went to the hall to see how dirty it was and to give instructions to the servants. Surely they had already returned.

Seeing all this "splendor" in the daylight, Ciel laughed nervously.

“Even for that psycho it’s too much,” he muttered. 

“Clean it up,” Sebastian, who had just materialized behind Ciel’s back, grinned. “You’ll have to make amends for this "psycho" remark, and I will watch how you do that. Right now, there are no servants here anyway.”

“How are you…” Ciel turned around, dumbfounded. And then he suddenly realized what Sebastian wanted. To perform one more task without receiving the promised payment in the form of information for the previous one? No. If he was working here, he wouldn’t be doing it for nothing.

“You can lower my salary but I'm not going to continue working until I get an answer to my question,” Ciel crossed his arms over his chest. He was not some kind of toy.

“So you remembered, then,” Sebastian stretched his lips in an ironic smile, slowly approaching Ciel again. The boy stood still, but his eyes betrayed his faint confusion. He didn’t know how to behave in Sebastian’s presence, so he alternated between being a submissive lamb and a stubborn mull.

“Exactly. Naturally, once I receive this information, I will complete the task.”

Ciel exhaled quietly as Sebastian stood only at an arm's length, squinting at him in a very strange way. Carnivorous? No, thinking about such things was madness, he was not some kind of a vampire, although if that were the case, Ciel believed that he wouldn’t be surprised.

“Of course,” shrugging his shoulders, Sebastian unbuttoned a couple of the top buttons, showing the medallion again, as if in mockery. “My answer will be short: it was handed to me by Rachel Phantomhive.”

“You met my mother?” Ciel gaped. He had assumed that Sebastian had a direct connection to his family, but to this extent? 

“Moreover, I personally knew your father.”

“Tell me about them!”

“Only after you remove this mess and…” Sebastian gave Ciel a mysterious look. “After you do me a little favor. I will be waiting for you at my office.”

Ciel knocked on the white doors in a warning and then grabbed the gilt handle. His heart was beating with rapid speed, the locks of hair fell into his eyes, making him even more nervous and annoyed. Assumptions regarding what Sebastian could demand from him were running through his head in a furious stream. What would it be this time? He couldn’t even begin to imagine what a person like Sebastian might have thought of, with his love for perverted bullying. All Ciel had to do was bear with it and most importantly, not to blunder. 

His knock received no answer at first. Only after a pretty long pause, Sebastian’s muted voice announced, “Come in!”

By his tone alone, Ciel couldn’t guess Sebastian’s mood. The words sounded too short and passionless, and the man himself was standing with his back to him. His posture expressed nothing, neither thoughtfulness, nor mocking relaxation, nor tension. Just a back covered with expensive black suit and arms crossed against the chest, which did not even hint at what could happen next. He was looking at the landscape outside the window, and it seemed that nothing could distract him from this occupation. Ciel froze, fearing to upset his calm and thus make him even angrier.

“Eager to receive answers to the questions that torment you?” Sebastian asked in an impassive voice. “Don’t rush. First, I’d like to satisfy one of my little whims. You will have to work hard for it.”

Ciel straightened his back tensely, pausing in anticipation of the announcement of what this "whim" meant. Sebastian reveled in the most unusual, eccentric demands. Ciel had seen so much of them that he never wanted to do it again. The recent events at the ball were more than sufficient.

“I’m listening and I’m ready to follow the instructions,” his voice did not shake, though it sounded a little dull.

The ease and grace with which Andras turned to face him was simply unbelievable. Neat movements attracted the eye. At such moments, Sebastian could charm anyone, and Ciel was no exception. His master controlled his own body to the point where it looked like he was enjoying his every muscle.

“In addition…” A gleam of fiery red eyes burned Ciel, who stopped almost at the entrance. “I don’t want to hear even one single demand for an explanation of your orders from you.”

Ciel withstood this look and did not look away, although it was difficult. Any desire to reply disappeared after such words. The few steps that Andras made reduced the distance between them, and his movements were those of a creeping dangerous predator overtaking its prey. He was magnificent: no fuss, no unnecessary movements or nervousness. Andras was enjoying the moment while his frozen, mesmerized victim simply watched him silently, waiting for his fate.

“I hope my butler possesses proper dancing skills?” Sebastian asked in a velvety and charming voice. The flames continued flickering in his eyes.

Ciel felt like a warm wave swept through him at that voice, evoking fear and pleasure at the same time. The velvet tonality of it gripped his body tightly, sending something slow and warm through it, taking away his all chances at resistance. Ciel barely found the strength to slightly bow his head, not taking his eyes off Sebastian.

“Waltz!” Sebastian announced loudly somewhere at his very ear, breathing movement into him, as if he were a clockwork doll.

A trembling wave of sweetness swept through Ciel’s body, making the scorching heat spread across his cheeks. He was embarrassed, more than embarrassed, he was actually blushing! Surely Sebastian noticed this weakness.

Ciel was ready to swear that he would fail the task because the muscles of his body were constrained. He felt like a helpless prisoner of this monster, who tortured him with amazing cruelty and meticulousness. He would get entangled in his own legs, he would fall on the carpet in the center of the study room — he would ruin it somehow, Ciel didn’t doubt it. 

Waltz was the most indecent and depraved dance of the world. Its open embrace, when a person was pressed against their partner as passionately as it was done during a kiss… What kind of strange desires did Sebastian have? After all, he wasn’t a girl.

“I will lead,” Sebastian said, as if reading his thoughts. “Don’t try to take even the slightest initiative. Do you remember who the lord is here?”

He was standing close, so close that Ciel could see how smoothly and calmly his chest rose as he breathed. Ciel's heart was following a ragged rhythm of excitement chaotically, and it was too loud. Sebastian could hear it. No matter how Ciel persuaded himself to calm down and endure this test with honor, the trembling did not recede.

It was madness. Ciel's hand in a silk glove flew up to the level of their shoulders, as it had to be done in a waltz. His palm, all in white, was covered by a hand in a black glove — imperiously, firmly, but not painfully. Like the shiny black wings of a raven covering the body of a frightened dove.

His heart sank, stopped, rolled to his throat and stole his breathing. All feelings escalated to their limit. Ciel could feel Sebastian’s smooth but scorching breath, breath that made goose bumps run down the back of his head. Sebastian’s other hand imperiously grabbed his waist, erasing the tiny distance remaining between them. Now, Ciel felt every contour of his body. It was a flexible, agile, strong body that took control of Ciel’s will, easily able to make him move as it wished.

“You didn’t forget what the beat is, did you?” The question sent a new rush of trembling through him, either from horror or pleasure. What was happening to him now? “One, two, three…”

Simultaneously with the first heartbeat, Sebastian forced Ciel to take a small step back with his thigh. One. Another beat, a step in the required direction. Everything was quiet, with Sebastian’s whisper being the only source of a sound. So low, so languid… Was he seducing him?

Three. He could feel the body of his partner with each of his muscles. Their breaths and heartbeats merged together. Inhale. It was as if they were fighting for air, drawing it into their expanding chests, becoming even closer to each other.

‘This is indeed an indecent dance,’ Ciel thought to himself.

He had never thought about that before. Learning the basics of dancing him with the court maids, he got no pleasure from all these hugs and movements. Stumbling over their skirts, he had been carefully planning the distance and direction of his next step because it was he who led them. He couldn’t do what his master had just done. Ciel couldn’t handle any of his partners properly.

But now he was being led, practically owned, no matter how regrettable and embarrassing it was.

“You are an excellent partner,” Andras informed him quietly, insinuatingly, in a voice that was lower than his usual one. A smile graced his lips, a smile so ambiguous and mysterious that Ciel couldn’t recognize any irony in it.

He turned his head to the side, trying to hide from Sebastian’s attention. The lights of the real, all-consuming flame were dancing in his eyes. It reminded Ciel of the fire that had burned his past. One, two, three…

The heartbeat, the breathing, the rhythm of movements were all captured by Andras with ease, as if the victim of his bullying was giving itself up willingly to his claws, the claws of a predator, as well as to his powerful, murderous maw. Ciel was ready to swear that he could hear the music in the ringing of blood in his ears. It was a waltz. One, two, three…

Their movements across the carpet were sweeping, making Ciel's head spin. In this dance, he lost his orientation — he didn’t know what was happening. Another reality absorbed him entirely, a reality in which his tormentor possessed him but not for bullying or eternal torture. In this dimension, Ciel also belonged to him, but with some unknown, captivating pleasure. It was delightfully passionate, to follow the subtle movement of Sebastian’s muscles, to feel him breathe, to absorb his desire for everything to happen in this particular way. Ciel leaned forward slightly, clinging to his partner's chest, trying to catch the rhythm of his heart. For some reason, it felt like this would give him physical pleasure, and so he couldn’t resist the temptation. Sebastian's hand moved around his waist, pressing his body even closer to his own in an excruciating proximity.

“Got a taste for it now?” Sebastian grinned.

He lowered Ciel into a soft chair during the next turn, breaking the rhythm and the sound of the dance. Ciel went cold. What was that? Obsession, madness, delirium of an inflamed brain. He couldn’t have possibly behaved in that disgusting manner! 

Ciel felt how his cheeks began to burn violently. He frowned and gripped the arms of the chair with his fingers, which went white with tension.

“Now…” Ciel didn’t recognize his voice and coughed, perplexed. It was weak and trembling — this was not his voice, he did not talk like that.

“Did you enjoy the waltz?” Sebastian whispered seductively, bending over Ciel's ear, which instantly turned red. “You played the role of a follower so well… Have you always been in a passive position when learning the art of this dance?”

Ciel looked at Sebastian with a haunted look. What did he mean by that? Of course Ciel had never been a follower in a dance before! Still, he was simply unable to say anything now.

“I need to… to leave for a while, my lord.” Ciel nearly ran out of the office. His legs refused to obey him properly. Trying to shut the door as quietly as possible, Ciel rushed off. He needed to be alone, think it over, calm his agitated mind and get Sebastian out of his head. His intrusive image didn’t leave Ciel, though, driving him crazy. He felt like the man was still pursuing him, tracking him like his own shadow.

And it wasn’t just Ciel’s paranoia speaking because Sebastian had indeed followed him.


	7. Tasting the Butler

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Apart from seeing their strong sides, Sebastian and Ciel also begin to recognize each other's weaknesses. However, Ciel's patience is running out, and Sebastian's hunger is growing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> #### Earl Michaelis by [CountAloisTransy](https://vk.com/countaloistransy)
> 
> _Original in color[here](https://www.instagram.com/p/B3pkAy8h2Wh/?utm_source=ig_web_copy_link)._

Still feeling the bewildering dizziness, Ciel quietly got to the hall of the first floor. A few more steps, and he could escape from the mansion — the front door was only a couple of meters away. But Ciel was in no hurry to do this because leaving now meant losing.

He bent over and rested his hands against his knees, leaning forward a little. His breathing was labored, his heart was beating much faster than usual. Swallowing nervously, Ciel mentally scrolled through the recent events. Abrupt movements, the touches that had left him breathless…

He was already eighteen. While he defined himself as a man in terms of his mind, his body was still that of teenager, and this dissonance had played a trick on him.

Damn it, why was Sebastian affecting him so strangely? His image refused to leave Ciel’s head even for a second, although on the other hand, he seemed to be everywhere in reality, too. Like now.

“Have you changed your mind about hearing the answer to your question?”

Ciel felt a dark figure loom over him. There was no doubt as to who it was. Raising his head, he indeed saw Sebastian, who was staring at him with such an excited gleam in his eyes that Ciel felt a little uneasy. But he couldn’t show his weakness.

“Of course not, sir,” Ciel was afraid to meet his eyes. Sebastian seemed to see right through him. “I apologize for my tactlessness.”

“Believe me, your outbursts don’t bother me. However, if I didn’t care about being indebted, you would have completed the next task for nothing,” Sebastian jerked his shoulder carelessly and Ciel pursed his lips.

“I'm listening, my lord,” he sighed, reproaching himself for his own confusion.

“I met your father by accident. If I’m not mistaken, he was investigating the case of the suspicious disappearance of two young heirs of the Trancy clan on Victoria’s orders. I had several suspects in my mind.”

Mentally moving to the events of three years ago, Sebastian recalled that the same Mephistopheles had urged him to help Vincent. Sebastian was sick of assisting people but Mephistopheles had insisted, explaining that this case had connection to his contractor. On the condition that Mephistopheles would lessen the amount of attention he paid to him, Sebastian agreed.

“And that’s it?” Ciel couldn’t hide his disappointment, and Sebastian squinted maliciously.

“Oh...” he stretched his lips in an ironic smile, which only embarrassed Ciel further. “Is the lamb hungry for information? Well. Do you remember how you got this ring, Ciel?” Sebastian nodded at the ring with a blue diamond, forcing Ciel to look away.

Ciel had been fifteen. And to be honest, at that time, he had a very rebellious and wayward nature. He wasn’t incapable of seeing something beyond his own nose, but he used to overestimate his persona and was prone to cunning. His last misconduct at the time was truly shameful.

Although precisely because of this, the family ring now rested on the finger of the real heir, not lying in the middle of nowhere. Ciel couldn’t forget how he’d taken it without his father’s permission. But Sebastian? How could he know? It was a deep night in the courtyard back then, nobody had seen him, and Vincent wasn’t one of those people who would share his family problems with an outsider.

“How do you know that?!” Ciel recoiled, unconsciously raising his voice and pressing against the wall behind him. Sebastian didn’t appear impressed.

“Shall I regard this as your next question?” he made a confident step toward Ciel, reducing the distance between them to a minimum. Ciel pressed into the wall even further.

Sebastian swallowed, trying not to lose his focus. This soul. Here it was, so free, completely in his power. A few efforts, and what he desired would belong to him. If he had met this mortal some centuries ago, though... Everything was much harder these days since a lot of constraints had fallen on him, anchoring him to numerous obligations. Unfortunately, it wouldn’t be as easy to devour Ciel now. But Sebastian was too stubborn to retreat easily.

“No, my lord,” Ciel replied warily. Sebastian was too dangerously close. “What are you doing?” He nervously squinted at Sebastian’s palm, which was squeezing his shoulder for some reason.

“How tired I am of this game of cat and mouse,” Sebastian exhaled sharply, tickling Ciel’s face with his hot breath. Ciel was completely at a loss. He was sure that after the reception where he’d seen things that went beyond any bounds of decency, nothing would surprise him. But no, Sebastian’s behavior was even more unpredictable and unusual.

Sebastian was a head taller than him, and to fulfill his plan, he needed to bend a little.

The sense of time slowed. Ciel's face now reflected complete confusion as to what was happening, which greatly amused Sebastian. What a naive human. His fate was already decided, considering that Baator’s fiercest demon was interested in his soul. His future was doomed to collapse.

Ciel didn’t breathe. Licking his upper lip, Sebastian lifted Ciel's head slightly, tracing his chin with his fingertips.

However, the door to the mansion opened, and joyful servants burst into the hall. Sebastian pulled away sharply. Ciel, who went deathly pale, glanced at the others weakly. Meilin and Bard were holding some large bundles in their hands. Finney was holding about a dozen of them at once.

“We got them, sir! As you ordered!” the maid stammered happily. Andras smiled, pleased.

“Carry them to the dressing room, then,” he turned his head to Ciel. “Follow them, then unpack the costumes and wait for me.”

Sebastian headed toward the hall while the servants went to the second floor. Saying nothing, Ciel set off to carry out his errands, still confused.

Meilin, Bard, and Finney dumped the bags of clothes on the sofa and immediately walked out, leaving Ciel alone. He sighed, already feeling doomed. His intuition suggested that this task would also be difficult. Carefully, Ciel began to lay out the things so that each outfit could be seen right away and Sebastian could immediately decide what he wanted to try on. 

Ciel really hoped that the coming evening would be calmer. The morning had been acceptable. Although the cleaning of the mansion was very troublesome, it allowed Ciel to be alone at least for a little. But what happened afterward… he didn’t want to remember it. That was too much. Ciel himself couldn’t figure out what he was feeling, and Sebastian’s strange behavior only exacerbated everything.

“Well, not bad.”

Sebastian's voice came from the side of the fireplace, and Ciel looked at him, startled. It was like Sebastian had just suddenly appeared right in the center of the room. Ciel didn’t hear the door open and close, so it must have happened completely silently.

“Thank you, sir.” Saying these words out of decency, not sincerity, Ciel pressed his hand to his chest and bowed.

Sebastian examined the things thoughtfully, rubbing his chin with his index finger. He had to look perfect tomorrow. This was also a great opportunity to shake this funny little boy with the countless try-ons. After all, why not combine business with pleasure?

Turning to the mirror, Sebastian took off his black frock coat and casually threw it straight into Ciel's hands, without turning around. Not daring to say anything against such treatment, Ciel sighed in exasperation and put the coat on a hanger.

Sebastian began to unbutton his shirt, watching Ciel's reflection through the mirror with the corner of his eye. Ciel looked away. But why? He’d seen Sebastian in a much franker state during the task with the bath. And there was nothing shameful in catching his master in such an unsightly and frank appearance. He was a butler, such things shouldn’t feel wrong. But still, Ciel was embarrassed.

Unfastening the last buttons, Sebastian took off his shirt, and like the last time, he threw it to Ciel. The shirt hit him right in the face. Jerking it away sharply, Ciel straightened his hair in irritation and gritted his teeth so as not to howl. He was once again humiliated. The sweaty fabric... hell, this was taking it too far!

“Don't damage it,” Sebastian remarked coldly, watching Ciel squeeze his shirt in his hands, threatening to tear it at the seams. The furious gleam of resentment in the boy’s eyes only amused him, so Andras decided to add oil to the fire. “And move faster. I need a new shirt, so take that black one and bring it here.”

Without answering, Ciel put the white shirt on a nearby stool. Then he took the one Sebastian had asked for from the sofa and went to give it to him. Sebastian turned to face him and spread his arms expectantly, indicating that Ciel had to dress him, not just hand it over. Did he seriously need to be dressed, too? As if an adult man couldn’t take care of it himself. He was definitely mocking Ciel.

Trying to control his emotions, Ciel went behind Sebastian, putting the black shirt on him. There. The task was completed.

“But what about the buttons?” Andras grinned haughtily, making fun of Ciel’s mixture of rage and embarrassment.

“Oh...” Ciel lowered his head to hide his discontent. “I'm sorry, my lord. It will be done right away.”

With trembling fingers, Ciel began to put the buttons into the buttonholes. The first one went well, but the second one didn’t want to give in. Since he started from above, he couldn’t hide from Sebastian’s mocking expression. He was in a dangerously close proximity once again, so he noticed every ridiculous pause that made Ciel feel even more nervous. He swallowed noisily, and this action didn’t go unnoticed. Fortunately, the upper buttons were done with, and only the lower ones remained. For better convenience, Ciel sank to one knee and focused on the last two. 

Sebastian arched one eyebrow slyly. From his position, he could clearly see that some strands of Ciel’s hair were wet. Not surprising, considering a variety of feelings that was boiling in him now, from undisguised shame to burning irritation. Ciel was lost and he couldn’t decide how to act.

Suddenly, intentionally or not, Sebastian moved his hips forward a bit, forcing Ciel to accidentally rest his palm on his groin. Ciel’s cheeks immediately flamed red. He hastily removed his hand and finally finished with the last button. Having completed the task, he got up and moved away from Sebastian by a few steps.

“It’s too gloomy for such an important event... I want to evoke trust and goodwill,” Andras stated with annoyance, evaluating the results of the fitting. The dark tones already prevailed throughout the mansion. “I need something brighter.” He quickly unfastened the buttons, and Ciel had time to feel surprised at such startling agility of his fingers. Andras took off the shirt that didn’t suit him and threw it to the other end of the dressing room. “Put it on the sofa,” he commanded.

Fine. Sebastian threw something, Ciel picked it up — it was a natural order of things. He shouldn’t have expected anything different. Irritated, Ciel tsked and headed for the thrown piece of clothing. Sebastian had managed to throw it on the top of one of the cabinets, so now Ciel had to climb for it.

“Move.”

A few minutes later, Sebastian glanced discontentedly at the boy who was standing on the chair, bouncing ridiculously, trying his best to get to the shirt. Sebastian couldn’t restrain a quiet laughter. What a pity that this moment couldn’t be captured and kept forever! Ciel succeeded in getting to the shirt, but suddenly, he lost his balance and fell off the chair. Red with shame, Ciel rose and awkwardly straightened the bangs that fell on his eye. Then he put the shirt on the sofa and stepped back, waiting for further instructions.

After the shirt, there was a blouse, followed by a black camisole. Andras didn’t like any of these things, so he also threw them at Ciel, forcing him to fold them and then to come back and work on the buttons. They were already floating before his eyes after such a busy day.

Sebastian couldn’t help but notice his reduced activity. Ciel was terribly tired, having lived through endless psychological and physical tests, so he really couldn’t last long today. An hour passed, then another one. The clothes supply didn’t seem to end. It was already ten o’clock in the evening, so Ciel could only dream of falling on the bed in his room and hiding under the blanket.

Sebastian kept waiting for Ciel to either ask him to be let go or make some completely stupid mistake, which was supposed to be the last straw. Today in particular, Sebastian couldn’t afford to torture Ciel around the clock. In the morning, he needed him energetic, so by the lunchtime he wouldn’t be overworked. No blunders could happen tomorrow.

Ciel gave Andras a dark blue tailcoat, helping him with one of the sleeves with difficulty. The second one took much longer than the first, so he kept fiddling with it in frustration. And suddenly, the weakness washed over him, causing Ciel to stumble and fall back.

Sebastian turned sharply to Ciel, intercepting him and not allowing him to fall. If he hadn’t caught him, Ciel would have simply fallen against a tall mirror standing behind them. This incident woke him up a little, so Ciel instantly jumped up, trying to overcome weakness and fatigue in vain. Quietly apologizing, he stepped back and continued to stand humbly, but his eyes were falling shut. Sebastian sighed.

“You may leave,” he told him coldly, turning to the mirror and straightening his cream-colored handkerchief. “I will not need you in the morning, but by eight o’clock, you must be in the lobby. Prepare a carriage, we’ll be going to go the city.”

Ciel was extremely surprised at this order, but he was also incredibly happy for the break.

“Yes, my lord.”

The door behind Ciel closed, and Sebastian leaned back on the sofa. Tomorrow, he’d have to visit the main office again, to deal with the documents... Damn it, Mephistopheles hadn’t made his life any easier. Methodically, from year to year, Sebastian had to work to achieve some garbage that any demon could easily conjure. Apart from him, of course. Even without being limited by the punishment, he failed at mastering magic properly. All he was able to create out of nothing was a bronze coin. And hunger had become truly painful. Sebastian didn’t even understand how he was still functioning. In was unbearable to exist only with the help of dreams about the day when he would devour the soul for which, despite all his reluctance, he was ready to finalize the contract.

“I can’t stand it anymore!”

The arm of the couch crackled from his strong grip, but Sebastian didn't give a damn about it. His thirst was too intense: his irises flared up, his fangs lengthened slightly, his nails sharpened, and the black locks of his hair grew noticeably. Surprised, Sebastian walked to the mirror and examined his reflection. His appearance began to change. It was a good sign. It meant that his punishment would soon recede, releasing his power.

Andras closed his eyes dreamily. Just thinking about it was exciting. He already knew what he would do as soon as the chains fell off. Not everything was restricted, so while he wasn’t able to absorb the desired essence, he could still feel its taste. Slowly breathing Ciel’s scent in, Andras was about to go after him when suddenly, a silhouette appeared in the doorway.

“I wouldn’t do that,” Mephistopheles shook his finger and smiled charmingly.

“Get out of my way, Mephistopheles,” Andras’ expression darkened. He removed the annoying demon from his path and clutched the door handle. “I do not intend to listen to your lectures.”

“As you wish,” Mephistopheles shrugged carelessly and smiled. “Only you never listening to my advice usually results in more complications occurring in your life. And believe me, I understand this world much better than you.”

“Well, speak, then,” Andras said, turning around and leaning his back against the wooden door. “Why should I restrain myself? Or are you really attached to this boy?”

“Don’t worry, I don’t care about Ciel at all,” Mephistopheles caught the jealous context of the question, but he had no desire to anger Andras once again. Not now. If he was seen as the potential rival, then the trouble with Andras after the termination of his punishment would be hellish. “However, do you even think about what kind of relationship you will have with him in the future?”

“I don't care,” Sebastian said arrogantly. “His soul is my focus, the rest doesn’t concern me.”

“Then be prepared for the fact that if you take him regardless of his desire, he can treat you as a mere weapon from the moment you conclude a contract,” Mephistopheles remarked. Sebastian’s expression became more sober. “He is independent, he doesn’t need the services that you currently require from him. He can easily order you to stay at a certain distance from him, and you won’t be able to disobey in any way. Do you understand what I mean now?”  
The most unpleasant thing was that Mephistopheles was right. Now Andras himself realized this. However, not all loopholes were lost. Seducing Ciel was still possible.

He had to make Ciel like it, so that afterwards, he wouldn’t be able to refuse Sebastian his company. When his feelings turned into thirst, the most ardent desire, his resistance would be broken by the power of passion, fading in the background.

But it wouldn’t happen today.

“Sadly, I have an important meeting tomorrow.”

Having opened the door of the carriage before Sebastian, Ciel waited until he entered, then locked it and sat in the driver's seat.

“Where are we going, my lord?” he looked around, holding the reins.

“Blackberry Street, the second house,” the response came from the carriage, and Ciel flinched when he heard the familiar address.

After some time, stopping the carriage near the right street, Ciel looked around for any signs to verify his guess. And he found them. Right on the three-story building, there was a large plate with the word "Phantom" on it. 

Ciel had mixed feelings about this. On the one hand, it was nice to visit such a dear place again, but on the other one, what did Sebastian need here? Ciel didn’t know who the new owner of the company was, but he remembered that this person didn’t change its name and for some reason refused to disclose his identity.

He opened the door, letting Sebastian out. Sebastian was clearly dissatisfied with his arrival. His gaze was... doomed? Funny, Ciel couldn’t recall seeing such an emotion in him before. He followed his master into the building, ordering a guard standing nearby to watch the carriage. However, when Sebastian went into the office, it turned out to be empty. On the table, there were some papers lying unattended.

And then something unexpected happened. Sebastian went to the table and sat at it, wearily propping his chin against his hand and taking one of the sheets, starting to examine it.

“Checking these reports once again...” He wearily covered his face with his palm and let out a quiet, exhausted sound. Ciel looked at him, dumbfounded. For all their brief acquaintance, Sebastian had never shown his weaknesses. And now he was openly whining about the papers.

“Why are you?..” Ciel's face was so perplexed that anyone seeing it would give him a condescending smile.

“What do you mean?” Andras didn’t understand the question at first, but then, evaluating some facts, he arched his eyebrows sarcastically and smiled. “Ah, that... yes, I forgot to warn you. I own the company now,” he carefully watched Ciel’s reaction, his eyes sparkling.

What was going on? How could such a huge number of strange coincidences occur? First, he got a job at Sebastian’s manor, then Undertaker said that the person he needed to question was Sebastian, who knew Vincent and who now also turned out to be the owner of Ciel’s company.

At this moment, Ciel hated Sebastian with everything he had. From his childhood, he’d been prepared for this role. He was the one who was supposed to be the head of the Phantom Company, but the fate decided otherwise. Instead of inheriting the company and doing everything for its prosperity, Ciel now had to see it in Sebastian’s hands. Who, unlike him, didn’t care about it one bit, as if he was forced to head it. With a squeamish twist on his face, he took the next sheet and started checking it.

Human responsibilities. Dumb, boring, existing for the sake of money, some ordinary garbage produced by people. On Earth, the concepts of true values had almost faded away.

Sebastian was used to luxury, and if he couldn’t return to his cozy tower on the mountain of the Eighth Circle, he could at least slightly transform the place where he was imprisoned. And this required money. He couldn’t get it out of the air, Mephistopheles wasn’t going to contribute, so he had to look for a human position. A good one, because Sebastian wasn’t going to limit himself in anything.

And as soon as the place in the Phantom Company became free, with the real heir being lost, Sebastian hurried to buy it on all the savings he had accumulated over a pretty long period. He planned to live like a king in his last year on Earth. He wasn’t planning on giving Phantom back to Ciel, and the boy himself had no means to buy it out. Soon, the thoughts about the boy completely flew out of his head. Andras thought about work so infrequently that he didn’t even remember it, not even when Ciel started working for him. What an irony. Ciel could only be pitied for his bad luck, something Sebastian would never do.

“How did it happen?” Unable to watch how Sebastian sat at His table, in His office, Ciel turned away, gritting his teeth. How he wanted to hit this bastard!

“After Vincent Phantomhive passed away, I took over the company. So...” Sebastian grinned. “If you want to return Phantom, you’ll have to buy it from me.” This was a downright mockery because everything was already clear: Ciel would never be able to afford it.

One answer was better than the previous one. Great. Sebastian was mocking him, knowingly or not, and his every sentence stung. This man allowed himself to speak of Ciel’s father with such dismissal... How dared he?

There was a rustle of paper again. Ciel turned around a little and squinted suspiciously. As soon as he saw what happened, a malevolent grin appeared on his lips. There was a greasy stain of spilled ink directly on the desk, which, of course, smeared the important documents. Which were made of the paper that was hard to get. Ciel really wanted to see how angry Sebastian could become.

But it didn’t happen. Sebastian only sighed dejectedly and for some reason, he put his hand under the table. He didn’t want Ciel to see how he conjured himself a batch of new sheets.

Then he jerked his hand back up, and Ciel frowned.

“Why are you standing there?” Andras looked at Ciel with contempt and indignation. “Wipe it away! Are you incapable of understanding basic things?”

“Of course, sir,” Ciel managed to mutter through gritted teeth.

He took a rag dampened with water and cleaned the table. The ink failed to disappear completely, so Ciel had to increase his efforts. Andras watched with interest as Ciel's concentrated face took on an ever more embittered expression.

Smiling cunningly, Sebastian suddenly reached out and tucked the gray strand of hair behind Ciel’s ear. The boy flinched and gave him a suspicious look. He was instantly wary.

“Why do you always hide your second eye?” Sebastian closely examined the blueness of the iris that was usually hid behind Ciel’s hair. Ciel swallowed, feeling Sebastian’s fingers on his temple. “You look better this way,” Sebastian concluded, looking at the bangs tucked behind his ear.

Ciel pursed his lips. This person was going to order him what hairstyle he had to wear? Brazenly pushing Sebastian's hand away, he shook his head sharply. His hair returned to its usual state, and the table became clean. Satisfied with the fact that he was able to show even a bit of his temper without overdoing it, Ciel finally ran a dry rag across the table and stepped away from Sebastian. 

Sebastian was somewhat surprised by such a manifestation of obstinacy, but in a way, he liked it. Ciel obviously had a strong will, and he maintained it even in Sebastian’s company, which meant that he would be at least a little more interesting than other mortals.

“I wouldn’t dare to distract you anymore,” Ciel stepped away and bowed. Then he went to the restroom to put the rag there and change his stained gloves.

“I'm almost done,” Sebastian said. “But you have to hurry. Upon returning to the estate, you will have to prepare a dining table for four people. We need to meet the suppliers. I assume you know how to cook?”

Ciel rolled his eyes, turning his back to Sebastian. This person finally ordered him to cook. It was amazing how he still didn’t turn into a skeleton.

Upon arrival, Ciel took care of the carriage and led the horse to the stall. This was done, but he still had other tasks. The moment had come where Ciel could show off his culinary skills, something he had been waiting for-for a long time. Earlier, his goal lied in earning Sebastian’s greater disposition, but now Ciel wasn’t sure if Sebastian could be surprised by anything. After all, all his efforts either ended in failure or were successfully ignored. But there was no way out, he had to cook. And to watch the servants, too, because Ciel couldn’t cope alone, and getting decent help from those blockheads was quite difficult.

He didn’t have to look for “blockheads” for long. The trinity was in the kitchen, happily doing nothing. Bard was wearily lying near the dumped sacks of flour, smoking a cigarette. Meilin was sorting through cutlery, although obviously not seriously but out of simple curiosity and to kill time. Finney was just staring at the landscape outside the window. Ciel took a deep breath. It seemed that in this house, there was no person to whom he could talk normally, definitely not his assistants. They were not stupid, but Ciel considered himself too serious for them.

Awakening them with loud clapping, Ciel called them to him and began to give instructions. They had only two hours left.

This country was so boring. Monotonous, gray landscapes practically didn’t change, the sun was a rare phenomenon, and this coolness, this endless autumn freshness never disappeared. Not in centuries. Andras realized that the British corresponded perfectly to the weather of the entire Misty Albion. It wasn’t surprising that after the death of King Albert, the cult of death emerged.

Lying on the stone wide parapet of the balcony, Sebastian put his hand forward, examining his black nails. They were lengthening before his eyes. Usually, some five days seemed a mere trifle, but now, even such a short period dragged on unbearably slowly. A simple hour felt like an eternity.

He was too tired.

But those two hours flew by very quickly. Sebastian realized it when he heard a quiet, barely audible clatter of the hoofs.

He rose from his seat, turned, and looked at the horizon. Somewhere in the distance, there was a carriage that was clearly heading here. Frowning with disgust and rolling his eyes, Sebastian jumped off the fence and began to descend to the first floor. From the stairs, he could see that Ciel had done well. The table was set, and even the food seemed to be of excellent quality. Not bad…

Ciel stood at the entrance, occasionally glancing at the watch that was hanging from the gold chain. Five to two. He had already prepared everything. In another situation, Sebastian would have certainly complicated his task, but not now. First, they had to deal with the suppliers, but then... Sebastian could guarantee that Ciel’s fate would be very interesting.

A few minutes later, there was a loud neighing of a horse. It was clear that the guests had already arrived, and as soon as the bell rang, Ciel opened the door, meeting them.

“Good afternoon. We are glad to see you. Please, come in,” Ciel smiled politely, letting the guests into the house. One of them, a short, plump man, went to Sebastian and offered his hand for a handshake. With a fake smile, Sebastian squeezed it.

“I’m happy to see you, Mr. Michaelis,” the stranger pulled a small silk handkerchief from his pocket and wiped his sweaty face. Inwardly, Andras grimaced squeamishly, but he politely ignored such behavior.

“I could say the same, Mr. Kendal.” Sebastian released his hand from his grip. “Would you like to have lunch with me now? We can solve all the issues there.”

“A tempting offer I can’t refuse,” the man smiled back. Sebastian nodded, and the five of them headed toward the hall.

The table was set; the snacks were already lying on four plates. Three guests sat at one end of the long table while Sebastian sat on the opposite. Ciel was pouring wine into glasses, smiling politely. One of the guests stared at him strangely. Ciel clearly reminded him of someone.

“Young man, have we met somewhere?” 

Ciel smiled sadly in his direction. It was possible that his father had made deals with these people once.

“Many people say that to me, Mr. Kendal. But I'm afraid it’s only a coincidence.” He set the bottle on the table.

Andras stared at his food with revulsion. Well, no, he certainly wouldn’t be eating human food, not even for the sake of appearances. He couldn’t bear the entirely senseless presence of these fatty pieces in his throat. But the drink could be acceptable. After all, he was used to it already. When Ciel finished serving the guests, he immediately stepped behind Sebastian, waiting for further instructions. 

After a short dialogue, the guests began to eat. One of them stared in surprise at how the owner of the house refused to touch the food. Noticing his curious look, Sebastian smiled softly.

“I'm not hungry.” In demonstration, he took a sip of the red liquid from the glass.

Ciel tensed. His master didn’t eat even now. This was absolutely abnormal. It's amazing how the guests even trusted him since this whole situation looked like an attempt at poisoning. Sebastian was probably irresistibly charming… Although the only things Ciel felt from him were his audacity and the smell of an expensive perfume, possibly of the Guerlain brand, which Victoria herself preferred. 

After some time, when the rest of the dishes were served and the guests were finishing lunch, Andras decided to break the silence. He was tired of waiting.

“I suggest moving on to the true goal of our evening, that is, our deal,” he clasped his fingers together and stared at his trading partners.

The dinner ended in the same businesslike manner. Ciel was rushing through the hall, passing the necessary manuscripts to suppliers and then to Sebastian. When their guests were focused on rechecking the contract and Ciel began to approach them, Sebastian tried to trip him. And he did it so overtly that while Ciel stumbled, he managed to stay on his feet. The guests didn’t notice anything but Ciel clenched his fists tightly. He turned to Sebastian sharply, meeting his innocent, saint-like gaze.

Ciel himself didn’t expect that such childish trick would be the last straw for him. Sebastian had been terrorizing him for a relatively short time, but it was enough to seriously damage his pride.

Ciel pulled himself together and walked back a few steps. He smiled at Sebastian politely and poured some more wine for him. Sebastian seemed somewhat bewildered at his calmness. Without touching his drink, he continued to discuss the deal. But Ciel had poured it for a reason, for the first time deciding on taking an extremely daring step.

He took a glass of wine directly from Sebastian. His master turned to him in confusion, giving him a surprised look.

Ciel lifted his glass directly above Sebastian’s head and turned it over. The liquid spilled over the black hair, staining an expensive suit.

“I'm sorry, my lord...” Ciel smirked poisonously. His true character had risen to the surface, and oh, how sweet revenge was.

There was a brief silence. The guests were clearly shocked at what had happened.

Sebastian was silent. Startled, surprised, and angry emotions were emanating from him in huge waves, though. Ciel didn’t even suspect what problems he had just created for himself. Sebastian would definitely teach him a lesson regarding obedience… But later. He couldn’t lose his temper, he had to see his guests off first.

Smiling with chagrin, Sebastian pulled a white silk scarf from his pocket and dabbed his face with it. Now he looked better, although the soiled clothes on his stately persona were completely unacceptable.

“My dear guests, I apologize, but the evening is over,” Sebastian got up from the table, and people across him smiled knowingly. “I was glad to see you. Please forgive my butler, he’s still too young.”

“We understand,” Kendal shook his hand in farewell. “Thank you for a delicious dinner.”

The door slammed, sounding like a death sentence, and Sebastian and Ciel were left alone.

“Ciel...” Sebastian laughed, shaking his head. Ciel swallowed nervously and backed away. Sebastian began to approach, forcing him to move farther and farther until he finally collided with the table. “Do you even understand the troubles you’ve gotten yourself into?” Sebastian's pupils narrowed and his palms pressed against the table furiously, encircling Ciel.

“I'm tired of this attitude of yours!” Ciel cried in reply. Since he’d disobeyed, he might just as well do it again.

Ciel jerked to the side, hoping to break free, but no. Sebastian grinned predatorily and pressed him back to the table with his hips. Not expecting such a shameless action on his part, Ciel exhaled sharply and his eyes flew wide open.

Sebastian had no desire to hold back.

He firmly grabbed Ciel by the hair, pulling his head back. Ciel closed his eyes as his mouth opened in an involuntarily gasp. His hands moved to Sebastian's chest but Sebastian ignored this. He already knew how it would end. The smell of the soul had intensified to an irresistible extent. He wanted to swallow it down, to devour it until nothing was left. 

But he couldn’t, so there was only one way to soften his desire.

“Let me feel its taste...” Sebastian was breathing frantically, his husky words echoing in Ciel’s ears all too clearly. What the hell was he talking about?

Ciel was in pain. He felt like this creature was about to tear his scalp out. But suddenly, Sebastian released his hair from the grip. The next moment, he kissed him on the lips with incredible greed, forcing him to open his mouth as wide as possible. Ciel’s eyes flew open in astonishment. Then he hissed and tried to push him away. He punched Sebastian’s chest, his sides, but to no avail. Sebastian pressed him to the table, and Ciel smeared himself in the cream of the cookies, being practically pushed into them with his shaking back.

Sebastian grabbed Ciel’s hands, squeezing them above his head and making it impossible for him to move. But at this point, Ciel wasn’t even trying. He was too startled by what was happening to continue resisting. Sebastian was ardent, impulsive, impatient, and intensely insatiable. He was enjoying this short-term intimacy. He didn’t absorb the soul but he could taste it. And it was wonderful.

He hadn’t experienced this feeling for ages... Fifteen hundred years was too long for withstanding such a test. He was one step from losing his control entirely. 

Ciel felt incredible. This tart-sweet taste — refined, unique, unlike any other. Despite the bitter despair at the thought, Sebastian realized that for the sake of this soul, he was indeed ready to conclude the first contract in his life.

Ten minutes later, Sebastian still refused to let Ciel go. His mind began to slip; his fangs suddenly lengthened, and due to his own negligence, he bit though Ciel’s lip. Letting out a pained sound, Ciel twitched sharply. Having tasted his blood, Sebastian’s sanity left him. 

Growling hoarsely, he smiled. His greed increased to the impossible extent, and all he wanted right now was to devour this soul. Forgetting the punishment, all those new restrictions, he made up his mind, and he wasn’t going to change it.

Now.

Now!

The loud slap brought him back to reality. Sebastian looked at Ciel, dumbfounded. The boy was still beneath him, trembling. He was scared. He had no idea what was happening, so he couldn’t find any way other to help himself. A bright pinkish trace of a blow was decorating Sebastian's face now.

Sebastian recoiled from Ciel. To think that after so many years, he’d almost lost control!

Sebastian was no longer there. He was gone in a blink. Left alone, Ciel ran his tongue over his injured lip, tasting his own blood. He straightened, still sitting on the dining table. His fingers involuntarily reached for his mouth, tracing its contours: blood was still oozing from it, starting to drip on his chin.

“This is unbelievable...”

**Author's Note:**

>   
> 
> 
> Thanks to my friend **[Severus_divides_into_H](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Severus_divides_into_H)** who  
> translates this work in English! Give your love to her stories!
> 
> Support me on my Tumblr [@scarlet-la-rose](https://scarlet-la-rose.tumblr.com/)!  
> You can ask your questions and see some illustrations [here](https://scarlet-la-rose.tumblr.com/search/my+fanfiction).
> 
> Original story in Russian posted on [Ficbook](https://ficbook.net/readfic/2189759).


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